A House United
by Piscean6724
Summary: This is the sequel to the series "A House Divided," and picks up where "Johnny's Journey" left off. Can the Station 51 A-shift get their lives back in order now that all their personal crises are over? Or are there more problems in store for the men before the house can finally be united?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Johnny leaned his head back against the head rest of the airplane window seat as the plane soared upwards, rising above the rich dark earth of the recently plowed fields on either side of the runway at the Montgomery Regional Airport. He closed his eyes, squeezing the hand of the woman sitting beside him. He knew she hated flying.

"'You okay, mom?" he questioned, still holding onto the familiar hand.

"I will be, once we stop climbing," Sharon replied, keeping her own eyes squeezed shut. She felt a little calmer than usual having taken the middle seat between her two favorite men.

Roddy smiled at the sight of his wife and son sitting beside each other. He leaned forward enough for both of them to hear his comment. "Neither of us enjoys flying."

Johnny snickered. "Guess I really am the only one in the family who doesn't mind heights, huh?"

"The eagle," Roddy reminded him, returning his head to the headrest.

"Yea… I hope Iris and Lily will be okay," Johnny mentioned, finally verbalizing his feelings about leaving them behind in Alabama. He felt his mother tighten her hold on his hand.

"They will be. There will always be… um… differences of opinion as long as there are differences in people. But wouldn't this be a boring place if we all looked and thought alike?" she asked.

Johnny sighed, knowing her comment was meant to be reassuring, but it offered only limited consolation. "I did see changes from the last time I was here, but I'm just worried that it won't be enough… and what if Iris can't get along with her parents… And what if Lily can't, either?"

"They'll figure it out, son," Roddy stated, confidently.

"It sure was nice of them to allow us to have their tickets," Sharon said, changing the subject to a friendlier topic. "I think Iris and Lily are wonderful people."

Johnny blushed, knowing that both of his parents were aware of his feelings for Lily. They had stayed up into the early hours of the morning, catching up on all that they had missed, reconnecting with each other. Johnny had told them about his relationship with Lily and how he had fallen in love with her when they were just teenagers.

As the airplane completed its ascent, Sharon reluctantly released Johnny's hand, patting it. "Johnny, none of us know what we're capable of until we're faced with adversity. You faced it ten years ago. Perhaps it's time for Lily to find out just how strong she really is."

Johnny leaned over, lightly kissing his mother's cheek. "I'm sure you're right."

"Of course she's right," Roddy agreed. "She's the smartest woman I know."

"I married you, didn't I?" Sharon kidded, smiling at her husband's comment. "So, tell us again about your friends at the station." She loved hearing her son's voice, something she had missed for a long time.

"Well… There's my paramedic partner, Roy DeSoto. He and I are best friends. His kids even call me Uncle Johnny."

"Uncle Johnny?"

Johnny chuckled when he saw the look on his mother's face. "Yea, they're great. I mean, I love 'em like they're mine, ya know? The boy, Chris… He's jus' like Roy. He even says he wants to be a fireman when he grows up. Roy and I take him campin' whenever we can and teach him a little fire safety and first aid. He really enjoys it; I think he'll be a natural for the department. I kind 'o like havin' a kid look up to me like Chris does. Then there's Roy's daughter, Jennifer. She's a little princess…." His eyes grew wistful as he remembered the many tea parties he had participated in. "She's the only girl I'll ever sip pretend tea with," he laughed.

"And Roy's wife doesn't mind your involvement in their lives?" Roddy inquired, concerned that his son might be interjecting himself a little too much in the DeSoto household.

"Oh, Joanne is an amazing woman. She's like the big sister I never had," Johnny explained. "You're gonna really like her. Then there's Cap, um, Hank Stanley, our captain," he clarified. "Second in command is Mike Stoker… He's kind o' quiet, but he's the best engineer in all of LA County. Our linemen are Marco Lopez, who makes the best chili you've ever eaten, and… ugh… Then there's Chester B. Kelly. We call 'im Chet… Well, that's the nicest thing we call 'im," he mumbled in a quieter voice. "He's the station clown, always pullin' pranks, but… He's a really good fireman. And he's got this amazing fiancée," Johnny said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You see, he actually saved her little girl after a really bad car accident on the 405 in a heavy fog, and now they're engaged. I jus' don't know how Caroline puts up with him," he laughed.

E!

Caroline Marks twisted the key in the lock on the back door of Bloomers and stepped inside. She didn't normally work on Saturdays, but with Iris and Lily being in Alabama, she was in charge of the florist shop. She locked the door behind her and flipped on the lights, hoping for a slow day so she could do a little wedding planning. She stowed away her purse beneath the work table, then made her way to the front of the store to open for the day.

She had been perusing through the notebooks of wedding arrangements for a while when she heard the bells on the door jingle. When she looked up, she gave the couple walking in a smile of recognition.

"Marco, Lexi… Good morning," she said, standing up and greeting her friends at the counter. "What brings you into Bloomers today?"

Lexi cut her eyes at her older brother with a knowing grin. "Well… a couple of things actually," she said, elbowing Marco.

The tan lineman felt his cheeks burn. "I'll go first. I would like to order a dozen red roses and a small stuffed bear, please."

"Ahhhhh, for a certain lady named Beverly, I presume?" Caroline asked with a sparkle in her eyes, already knowing the answer. Chet had shared the details of Marco's plan with her while lamenting that his own proposal hadn't been as romantic as the one Marco was planning. Of course, Caroline had no regrets; she had been so surprised and enthralled by the proposal that she hadn't even minded that it had ended with Chet receiving medical care from a physician who happened to be dining near them.

"That's right," the lineman replied.

"The roses, I understand, but why the bear?" Caroline asked.

"Because eventually the roses will die, but the bear will last forever," he replied. He didn't want to share with anyone the fact that 'Marco-bear' was Beverly's pet name for him.

"Just like true love," Caroline mused. "And if you have children, then it can be their first teddy bear."

Marco smiled at the thought of a family of his own. "Perhaps."

"And will you be picking them up later?" Again, Caroline already knew the answer. Chet really couldn't keep a secret.

"Yes... I have a very special evening planned," he replied.

Caroline wrote out the ticket, then turned to Lexi. "And is there something I can get for you?"

"Actually, I'm planning a party for Johnny."

Caroline lifted her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh?"

"Yes, Michael and I have been talking about what Johnny might be going through in Alabama and how the A-shift family…. Well, now I guess that includes us," she said with a smile beaming at Caroline. "I mean, we've all had so much going on and… He's been all alone down South… Okay, not alone because he's got Iris and Lily with him, but he doesn't have his…," she hesitated, looking over at Marco. "He doesn't have his brothers with him."

"He was there for each of us during our difficult times," Marco explained. "We just want to do something to let him know that we're here for him, too. Station 51 is a family; and Lexi's right that both of you are now a part of it, and we want to remind Johnny that he's a very important part of it, too."

"That's an amazing idea," Caroline commented. "It's so exciting. What can I do to help?"

"Well, we want it to be a surprise, so we're going to do it at the Desotos' house. Michael and I thought that if Roy asked Johnny about coming over for a visit, then he would be more likely to come than if we had it somewhere else. We talked to Roy and Joanne about it yesterday, and they're on board. So if you and Chet will come…"

"Yes, of course, and we'll be glad to contribute whatever you need for us to bring," Caroline said, growing more excited by the minute. "Or maybe we should make a donation for the food?"

Lexi nonchalantly waved her hand. "We'll figure that out later. Just make sure you bring Corrie, or Antonio will be devastated," Lexi replied. "Were kind of thinking about a Halloween party since Halloween falls on a Friday this year and the guys won't be on shift."

"Thank heavens," Marco sighed, remembering the antics of the teenagers during last year's Halloween festivities which happened to catch the A-shift on duty.

"Roy is going to ask Johnny to help out with the kids for Halloween, so that should take care of getting him there," Lexi added. "Would you mind talking to Iris and Lily? We really want them there."

Caroline looked down, biting her lower lip between her teeth. "Ohhh, I hope they'll be here."

Lexi looked around, wrinkling her forehead. "What do you mean? It's Saturday. They'll be back today, right?"

Caroline's face contorted and she pressed her lips into a thin line, unsure of how the Lopez siblings might take the news. "Not exactly…" She launched into her explanation, including the details about Johnny's parents returning with him later today.

"Really?" Marco questioned. He was shocked at the turn of events, especially with how quickly Johnny and his parents had seemed to reunite. Perhaps that was a good omen for all the men on their shift.

"Yes… It's amazing, isn't it?"

Marco sighed. "Definitely… I don't know if I could've so easily forgiven my parents if they'd treated me and my child the way that the Joneses treated Iris and Lily."

"You never know what you'll do when you find yourself in a difficult situation," Lexi explained, thinking about her own family dynamics. What would she have done if her mother had rejected her or Antonio?

"With Mr. Jones having cardiac issues, there's a chance that they might not be back in time for Halloween. When I spoke to Iris last night, she had no idea how long they might be there."

"I hope it all works out for them… All of them," Marco commented. He may not have experienced his family rejecting him, but he had felt the sting of being rebuffed. He felt his stomach do a little flip at the memory – tonight's proposal outcome had to be different… It just had to be. "And I hope that the two of them will be back in time for the party." He reached into his back pocket for his wallet. "I'll come back this afternoon to pick up the roses," he said, removing enough money to pay for his purchase.

Lexi stood staring at the work table, wondering if they should wait for the Campbells' return before planning the party. The dinging sound of the cash register brought her back to the moment.

Caroline rang up the charge, counting out the change and handing it back to Marco. "They'll be ready within the hour," she said, closing the cash drawer. "I'm sure that Iris will call me again in a few days just to check on things. I'll let her know about your plans for Halloween. I can't wait to tell Corrie that she's going to another party with Antonio. She'll be so excited."

"They make such a cute little couple, don't they?" Lexi smiled. "Who knows; we might be planning a wedding for them one day."

"Ah-haha, not for a while, I hope," Caroline chuckled, leaning against the counter. "Let's get through my wedding before we start planning Corrie's."

"Exactly," Marco replied, waving his thanks to Caroline as he walked behind Lexi heading for the door. He still had a few things to prepare for his evening with Beverly – timing was crucial.

Lexi headed for the passenger's door of Marco's car, checking her watch as she slid onto the bench seat. She waited for her brother to enter the vehicle and pull into traffic before she spoke.

"I'm glad you're joining Michael and me for lunch, and I really appreciate all the help with planning this party, too."

Marco smiled, but kept his eyes on the busy street ahead. "And I appreciate the help with planning my proposal tonight."

"I can't wait for Beverly to become my sister-in-law," she replied, planting her elbow on the window ledge, slowly running her fingers through her hair. She had helped Marco plan the most romantic proposal she could imagine. Thinking about the evening Beverly was going to experience actually made Lexi feel a twinge of jealousy. Would she ever experience such a romantic event? "You've been really good for her, Marco, and… I think you've been happier since you met her, too. Am I right?"

"Yes, I'm happier, but… I'm beginning to feel butterflies in my stomach about tonight. I mean, I have already asked her once…" He didn't finish his comment; he didn't need to. Lexi already knew the story of how Beverly had refused his previous proposal.

Lexi pulled down the sun visor, frowning at her image in the mirror. "I need to freshen up. If Michael is already waiting for us, stall him for a few minutes while I run to the restroom, okay?"

"You look fine, Lexi."

"No… I want to look…," she hesitated, looking out the window. "Well, as good as I can for him."

"Women... You all spend too much time worrying about how you look," he chided, but couldn't stop the smile that crossed his face. His sister was obviously head-over-heels in love with Mike, and Marco couldn't think of a better person for Lexi to be with than his engineer.

Marco turned into the parking lot of the restaurant, letting Lexi out in front of the entrance so he could park the car.

She opened the car door, looking around the parking lot with a slight grin. "Good, he's not here yet. I'll meet you just inside the door," she said, shouldering her purse as she slammed the car door shut.

Marco watched her hurry inside before he pulled away, snickering. "He loves you too, Lexi," he mumbled to himself, easing into a vacant parking spot. "But how am I going to stall him?"

Mike turned into the restaurant parking lot, unaware that Marco had been invited to join he and Lexi for lunch. He need to talk to her, especially after their romantic rendezvous the previous day. What should he do if Marco began to ask more questions about their relationship? Should he share that they had become intimate? Hopefully, Lexi would know the best way to handle it.

He looked around in search of a vacant parking spot, and his heart skipped a beat. He saw his senior lineman stepping out of his car, but Lexi was nowhere around. "Oh, shit!" he cursed, parking his truck in front of the burgundy sedan. He gulped, assuming that Lexi had told her brother about their amorous interlude. He saw the concerning look on Marco's face and braced himself for whatever was about to happen.

Marco closed his car door, thinking that maybe he could stall Mike by sharing his nervousness with him, although the thought of this evening was enough to trigger a new wave of anxiety and tighten his facial muscles further.

"Marco," Mike said, dipping his head slightly, but making sure he stayed at arm's length from the older man.

"Hi, Mike," Marco responded. He leaned his forearms on the hood of Mike's truck, hoping the two could chat for a moment. "Lexi's inside, but… I, uh, wanted to talk to you for a minute."

Mike cleared his throat, his blue eyes growing dark. He loved Lexi, and he was not ashamed of the fact that they had advanced their relationship to a sexual level. But he also wasn't sure he was ready to share that information with his coworker who also happened to be the oldest of the three protective Lopez brothers. He stiffened his spine, prepared to defend himself – and his girlfriend - if necessary.

"Look, Marco… We're adults."

Marco tilted his head slightly, confused by his friend's defensive stance. "Yes, I'm fully aware of that," he replied, thinking that Mike was talking about the two of them.

"And… And I know what you're thinking, 'cause I can see it in your eyes, but you're wrong. Wrong, Marco!" Mike's voice was rising even though he didn't realize it. "It was completely mutual, alright? I promise, I didn't plan for it to happen… Neither did she… It just did… okay?"

Marco pushed himself off the hood of Mike's truck, staring intently at his shiftmate, and wondering who Mike was referring to. Was his friend confessing to cheating on Lexi? "What do you mean, you didn't plan for it to happen?"

"I was just… helping her out, and… it had been a rough shift, so… you know how it is… I… I think we… um, both needed ea-each other," Mike stammered, uncharacteristically. He had been concerned about how he would face Marco when they went back on shift tomorrow, hoping that Marco wouldn't suspect anything. He knew how protective Marco was of Lexi, but Mike was just as protective of her now. He needed to stand up for her, to help Marco see that she was a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. She was no longer the scared and angry 14 year-old girl who ran away from home.

"What? How… How could you?" Marco questioned, feeling the bile rising in the back of his throat. "I trusted you, Stoker," he argued, pointing his finger at Mike. "I've trusted you with my own life for years now, so I thought I could trust you with my sister!"

"You can! I didn't hurt her!"

"The hell you didn't!" the angry lineman yelled back. "And if I can't trust you to treat Lexi like a lady, then… I…" He ran his hand through his dark hair. "Damn you, Stoker!"

"Damn, ME?" Mike said, placing his flattened palm against his own chest. "What about Beverly, huh? She thought she was pregnant, for God's sake. At least I used protection!"

"Don't you DARE bring Beverly into this conversation!" Marco yelled, unaware that their raised voices had turned a few heads in the parking lot. "Besides… Just because you put on a raincoat doesn't mean you should be playing around in the rain!"

"I wasn't playing around, Lopez," Mike shot back, his mouth dripping with sarcasm as he referenced Marco by his sir name. His ire had risen to a level that blinded him to the fact that Lexi had seen them through the glass door of the restaurant and was now rushing in their direction.

"What the hell do you call it then?" Marco asked, the heat of their conversation causing him to sweat.

"I call it making love!"

"What's going on?" Lexi yelled out as she ran across the small parking lot to the place where the two men now stood. She could tell that they were both angry, but she had no idea what could have gone wrong between the two friends in such a short time.

"Your brother thinks you're still a child, Lexi," Mike stated, wrapping his arm around her while never breaking eye contact with Marco.

"She's a grown woman now, Stoker, and I know that, but that doesn't give you the right to do this to her. My sister has been through enough hell for all of us, so I'll be damned if I'm going to allow her to endure anymore." He kept his dark eyes fixed on the tall engineer. "Get in the car, Lexi."

"No! Marco, what's wrong with you?" Lexi questioned, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Familiar fears crept up her spine, sucking the breath out of her lungs. Angry men, even men she loved with all her heart, brought back painful memories from her life on the streets.

"Step away from her, Mike. I mean it… or-"

"Or what? You don't own her… She's not a child anymore," Mike said, seething.

Marco felt his fists clenching in preparation for a fight, stopping only when Lexi jumped between the two of them, flattening a palm on each man's heaving chest.

"Alright, both of you," she interrupted, swishing her head back and forth between them. "I want to know what the hell's going on between you two."

"Mike… Tell her the truth. Either you tell her, or I will!"

"Tell me what?" Lexi questioned, feeling that all too familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Your brother thinks that it's okay for he and Beverly, but not for us," Mike explained.

"I do NOT cheat on the woman I love," Marco said, defensively.

"Cheat?" Lexi repeated, pulling her hands away from the two men. Was Marco inferring that Mike was cheating on her? Weren't they supposed to be in an exclusive relationship? She had never thought to ask. And what did Mike mean when he commented that Marco didn't 'own' her?

Mike's blue eyes opened wide. "CHEAT? Are you accusing me of infidelity?" Mike yelled, stunned by what he was hearing.

"Aren't you guilty?" Marco asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"NO! I LOVE her. I love her with all my heart, Marco!"

Marco felt the heat of his anger rising from his chest and coloring his neck. "Then who the hell were you talking about when you said that you called it making… lo..love…um… ugh," Marco's voice and countenance fell as the realization registered on his face. "Damn," he grumbled, resting his arms on the hood of Mike's truck once more and lowering his head, feeling his anger cooling and his embarrassment heating up. He knew that the tips of his ears were bright red. "I feel… so… stupid."

Lexi turned to look at Mike, her brown eyes shimmering. He had said he loved her… but he wasn't the first man to say that… And the anger boiling up between the two men was bringing back emotions she had tried hard to hide away. "Um… what… was all this about?"

"I think Marco and I just had two very different conversations," Mike replied, feeling his own neck turning rosy.

"No," Marco said, raising his head to look at Lexi and Mike. "We had one conversation about two VERY different topics."

"Marco?" Lexi spoke up, putting the pieces together. "You thought he was cheating on me? Why?"

Mike spoke up before Marco had a chance to open his mouth. "I saw Marco standing out here and you weren't around so… I assumed you had told him about yesterday, and… and that he was pissed off at me."

Lexi ducked her head to hide her crimson face, twisting her hair around her finger. "No… I haven't… but… I think you just told him, Michael."

"Oh, yea," Marco chuckled nervously. "I was getting pissed off, alright, but now… I'm just so…argh! I'm so embarrassed." He reached his hand out in a gesture of truce to his friend. "I'm sorry, man. I'm REALLY sorry."

"I apologize for the things I said, Marco. I didn't mean any disrespect to Beverly or to you. I was just… mad."

"Same here and… for what it's worth… I'm happy for you both," he said, rolling his eyes and walking back to his car. There was no way he could enjoy eating a meal with the two of them now. "I hope you enjoy your lunch. I have things to do before I pick up Beverly tonight."

"You have plenty of time. Why won't you join us?" Lexi asked, unaware of the intimate conversation between Mike and Marco at the hose tower on their last shift.

Marco looked over his shoulder, giving Mike a knowing look. "Because now I KNOW that we're talking about my little sister," he responded, opening the car door.

Marco waved at the two of them as he drove away from the restaurant. He needed to double check his plans and then go back to Bloomers. Everything had to be flawless this time. Beverly just had to say yes.

Lexi felt Mike put his arm around her waist, her mind running through numerous scenarios and none of them pleasant. "So... What did he mean by that?"

"I'll explain it inside," Mike stated, ushering her into the restaurant. He wanted to wait until they were seated to begin the conversation, but Lexi began talking again as soon as they reached their table.

"Okay, so tell me what Marco was talking about out there?"

Mike blushed, reaching for his glass of water. He needed a cooling sip before he could explain it to her.

"See... Your brother and I had a long... um, heart to heart talk on our last shift."

"About me?"

Mike smiled at her worried look. He reached across the small table, grasping her hand in his. "Of course... and about Beverly."

Lexi gulped, cutting her eyes downwards. She reached for her own glass of water. "Uh-oh."

"Look... It's just that... Well, Marco and I were... See, we're not sure...," he sighed, exasperated. How could he explain this without upsetting her?

"Just say it, Michael... Please?"

"Okay, we were talking about... um, intimacy issues because of how you and Beverly have been, you know... treated in the past." There, he had said it... Well, sort of.

Lexi felt the backs of her eyes beginning to sting. Was he having regrets about yesterday? She released his hand just as the waitress returned to take their orders.

"Ahem," Lexi began, clearing her throat in an effort to keep her voice at a normal tone. "I'll have the chicken alfredo," she said, closing the menu and passing it to the older woman.

"Same for me," Mike added, handing his menu to the waitress.

"Okay, I'll be right out with your salads," she replied, quickly pocketing her order pad. She had seen the look on Lexi's face and knew that the young couple needed some time alone.

"So, what'd the two of you do? Compare notes on which of us whores was the most skilled in bed?" Lexi spat out, immediately regretting her tone. The sudden sense of betrayal she had felt in the parking lot had gripped her soul, even though it had only been a misunderstanding. Why was she being so mean to Michael? Why couldn't she just accept the fact that she would never measure up in his eyes, never be a normal girlfriend? She refused to look across the table at him, knowing that his expressive blue eyes would be filled with pain – pain she had inflicted, unnecessarily. He was only being honest with her. Had he been honest when he told Marco that he loved her? She surmised that he had only been telling her brother what he thought Marco wanted to hear. Mike really didn't love her; how could he?

Mike exhaled loudly, pushing aside his frustration and anger. He had to keep reminding himself that she was still in therapy for her past, and he was hearing the voice of a very hurt woman talking. He needed to let her know how much she meant to him, how much he needed her. Most of all, he needed to make sure she knew how much he loved her.

"No... It was nothing like that, Lex..." What could he do other than tell her the truth, even if it hurt her a little. "Plus, the conversation occurred before you and I…" He looked around, not wanting to finish his statement with other customers nearby.

Lexi looked down at the tablecloth, chastising herself for what she had said to him earlier. She hadn't referred to herself using the derogatory word since leaving that life behind, but her old insecurities seemed to be lurking just beneath the surface.

Mike tried to read her face, but all he could see was her quivering chin and the top of her head. He rested his elbows on the table, trying to decide what to say. Trust would continue to be an issue for them for a while because she had been lied to by so many men. He refused to be one of them. "I've told you before that I would never lie to you and I meant that," he said, staring at the center part in her hair, wishing she would look up at him. "Marco was just... so upset about the pregnancy scare and her refusal of his proposal… and I think he was... embarrassed about how the rest of us found out about it. Anyway, he and I were hanging hose and we had a chance to just sit and have a real talk when we finished that chore. Neither of us wants to do anything to hurt either of you. We don't want to scare you in any way and we sure as…" He looked around, lowering his voice. "We sure as hell don't want either of you to feel like we're using you. I love you Alexia Lopez, and Marco loves Beverly. He was just curious about how you reacted to me when we were… alone," he said, leaning back in his chair, his normal voice returning. "I think maybe he's frightened Beverly a time or two, and we were just talking about what we needed to do to... you know... let you ladies know that you can trust us. We want you to know that... that..."

"That this isn't a business deal?" she murmured, almost too softly for him to hear her.

Mike reached for her hand, frustrated when she pulled it away. "Well... yea. You understand that, don't you?"

Before she could respond, their lunch was served and the two ate in silence, neither one feeling like talking. When they were finished, Mike paid for the meal, then helped her out of her seat. When he placed his hand on the small of her back to usher her towards the exit, she stepped away from him. The conversation, the meal that he had paid for, the entire scene had brought back so many sickening feelings, none of which she felt free to share with him. She needed some time alone to sort through what had happened, to try to figure out why she had reacted the way she had, and sadly, she had no one to talk to now because she couldn't burden Beverly on this special day. Perhaps when Bri was ready to leave the Wellhouse and move into the Lopez home, she would once again have a friend to talk to. After all, her former roommate truly understood all that Lexi had been through; she had been right there beside her the entire time, experiencing the same things. Just a few more days and she would have her best friend back.

Mike opened the door of his truck for her, standing with his hand on the door handle, trying to decide what to do. Unsure of what to say, he merely closed the door and walked around the truck, sliding his long legs beneath the steering wheel. He placed the key into the ignition, but left his hand resting in place. Instead of cranking up the truck, he turned to look at her.

"Lexi... what did I do to upset you so badly?"

"Nothing," she snapped back, sniffling. She knew that he was aware that she was lying, but how could she answer his question when she really didn't understand it herself?

Mike rolled his eyes, cranking up the truck. "Well, let's go back to my place and talk about… nothing, okay?"

He waited for a break in traffic before pulling into the line of cars, heading for his apartment before she finally spoke up.

"I want to go home."

Blue eyes nearly flashed over, but rather than argue with her, Mike made a left turn at the next light and headed for the Lopez residence. He pulled to a stop in the driveway, opening his door just as Lexi quickly slipped out of the truck, slamming her door closed, and began to walk hurriedly up the walkway.

"Hold up... Lexi wait," he called out, using long strides to catch up with her. He reached for her arm, tugging on it slightly to urge her to look at him, seeing her internal struggle as she slowly turned to comply with his request.

"Lemme… go… please," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. Although his grip was light, the idea of a man tugging on her arm nearly sent her into a panic attack. When he released his gentle grasp of her arm, she took a step backwards, creating more space between them. "Please...," she said, backing further away from him. Her voice began to crack with emotions. "Please... just... leave me... 'lone," she whimpered, turning and rushing inside her mother's house.

Slowly, Mike turned around and returned to his truck. How had their casual lunch date go so wrong?

E!

"Those are perfect!" Marco exclaimed as he looked at the elegant box of roses with the dark beige teddy bear sitting beside it. The stuffed animal held a small heart between its paws that proclaimed its love for the recipient. "You did an amazing job, Caroline," he proclaimed, securing the lid onto the box.

"Thank you," Caroline responded, snipping a long strip of red satin ribbon from a roll to adorn the cream-colored box top. She expertly tied it into a loopy bow, then pushed it forward across the work counter along with the teddy bear. "Chet called me a little while ago and told me about this evening. I hope you don't mind."

Marco smiled broadly. "I don't mind at all. In fact, I appreciate his help with all of this."

"Oh, you're really going to like the bottle he found. He even used a little sandpaper to scratch it up and make it look even older," she said with a snicker, knowing that Chet had a little surprise of his own to spring on the couple afterwards.

"Hopefully, I won't hyperventilate and faint like my buddy, Chet, did," he replied, his voice sounding a little worried about the possibility. "Thank you, Caroline. And if I don't get a chance to properly thank Chet, please let him know how much I appreciate all he's doing… Will you?"

Caroline offered a soft smile and a brief nod in reply, her green eyes shimmering. She knew what it felt like to feel unloved and then to find the love of her life in a very unexpected way. Now it was Beverly's turn… She just hoped that Beverly's response would be positive this time.

E!

Johnny walked alongside his parents through Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport during their layover, awaiting boarding for the final leg of their journey to Los Angeles. The previous flight had been a long one, and all three of them needed to stretch their legs. As Johnny walked past a vendor, he laughed out loud.

"Ahh-hahaha… Oh, this is great," he said, reaching for a small box on the Halloween display. "I have GOT to get this for Chet," he laughed, turning the box over to check the dimensions of the item. "Oh, yea… This is gonna be perfect."

Sharon smiled at her enthusiastic son, so relieved to see him happy again. "Are you planning some kind of a prank on the station prankster?" she asked, remembering all the stories Johnny had shared with his parents about The Phantom and the many tricks the men liked to pull on each other.

Roddy looked at his son, puzzled by what he was seeing. "What are you gonna do with that?"

Johnny paid for his purchase, his trademark grin beaming. "I'm finally gonna have the chance to pay Chet back for all the stuff he's done to me," he laughed. "I'll explain it later," he added, checking his watch. He needed to call his captain to see if a replacement could be found for him for tomorrow's shift; he wanted to spend as much time with his parents as possible while they were in Los Angeles. Their flight would be boarding soon and they were all ready to finish this journey. He realized he didn't have much time. "Um, Miss, could I have change for a dollar, please?" he asked the cashier.

He accepted the coins from the young woman, flashing her his trademark grin in return, then headed for the bank of payphones along the wall. He hoped to take his parents for a tour around the station tomorrow when A-shift would be working. It was time that his parents were introduced to his friends.

E!

Chet glanced at his watch; his timing had to be exact. Marco had checked the sunset schedule and Chet had to have everything in place ten minutes prior to sunset. Then the Irishman had to blend in like a tourist in order to complete his part of Marco's proposal.

The Irishman grinned mischievously as he walked across the nearly vacant section of beach. He carefully planted the pale blue-green bottle in the sand with only the corked end peeking out near the water's edge. He stepped away, smiling at his handiwork as he removed the camera strap from around his neck.

Dressed to look like a tourist, he pulled the floppy hat down over his head, aiming the camera at the pier in the distance. He needed to stay close by to guard the bottle to ensure that only Beverly would find it, and more than that, he wanted to be available to capture the moment she said 'yes' on film – a surprise gift for his best friend. But he needed to blend in with his surroundings so as not to be recognized by Beverly.

Up ahead, he saw the familiar young couple walking down the concrete walkway, heading in his direction. He looked around, noting that only a few people were taking a leisurely stroll farther down the beach which meant the bottle was safe. He turned his back to them, pretending to take pictures of distant cliffs as he walked back across the sand. He stepped onto the concrete walkway and hurried to the safety of the parking lot. He knew Marco had left his car door unlocked, and that the flowers and stuffed animal were safely hiding beneath Marco's jacket spread across the backseat. With a stealth honed by the many torturous pranks the Phantom had played on Johnny through the years, he removed the Jim Croce eight track from the oversized pocket of his jacket and slipped it into the player of Marco's car; it was at the ready to play the perfect song to end the perfect proposal… And it would come as a surprise to the loving couple.

Quickly, he removed the flowers and the bear, arranging them in the passenger's seat just the way Marco had instructed for the romantic display, making sure to lock the sedan. He returned to Caroline's car, which he had borrowed since his van would have been too conspicuous, and stood behind the open driver's door. He planted the camera on the roof of the car, zoomed in on the unsuspecting couple, and waited for the perfect moment to begin photographing the events that were about to happen.

Walking through the coarse sand, shoes dangling from the tips of her fingers, Beverly strolled barefoot beside the love of her life. Nothing seemed unusual about their casual evening; walking along the beach with their pants legs rolled up was a mutually relaxing way that they had discovered helped them unwind after an especially exhausting day. Beverly had been conducting rescues at an alarming rate and Marco knew she needed a relaxing evening. The stroll had seemed to be a mutual decision.

"Marco… I've been thinking about something and… I want your honest opinion, alright?"

Marco hesitated, concerned about what he was about to hear. He tugged on her hand, urging her to stop walking and turn back to face him. He saw the wind blowing her light brown hair across her chin, saw the seriousness in her eyes, and began to think that his plans might be thwarted by an unknown factor.

"Of course I will, baby. I love you," he said, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "What's going on."

Beverly looked beyond his shoulder, noting how the wind and the water seemed to keep attacking the shoreline, but noting that the sand seemed determined to remain firmly in place. Tiny bits and pieces might get blown or washed away, but those same natural forces that were trying to eat away the shoreline were also shaping it, transforming it, creating a thing of beauty that thousands of people flocked to see every day. She wanted to be like the shoreline. She wanted to stand steadfast against the forces that were attacking her at every turn. She may get battered, but she refused to succumb to the will of those opposing her. She wanted to one day stand triumphant, perhaps in this very same spot, and proclaim that she had beaten the odds, she had defeated the beasts, she had overcome her past. While she had already come a long way, there were still three personal goals she hadn't accomplished. More than anything, she wanted to know the joy of being a wife and mother… but...

The man standing with her on the beach, holding her hand as the waves and the wind lapped at them, was the love of her life, even though she had refused his previous proposal – something she deeply regretted. While he had hinted that he was going to ask her again, she felt certain it would be some time in the next few months, maybe even on New Year's Eve but… Was he having second thoughts? If not, and if he were to ask her again, she would definitely say yes. And if they were to be married one day, would she ever know the joys of motherhood? If so, would she be a good mother?

Then there was the goal of going back to graduate school and becoming a licensed therapist. She had the education needed to help the ladies at the Wellhouse with their basic needs and facilitating group discussions, but their individual therapy sessions were being conducted by a kind elderly therapist who volunteered her time. Beverly wanted the credentials, those precious letters behind her name that would permit her to be the person who was able to peel away the layers of self-loathing, trauma, and abuse in order to reveal the precious person she knew was inside every woman who sought refuge at the Wellhouse.

"Earth to Beverly," Marco said, waving his free hand in front of her face, causing her to blink rapidly as her thoughts returned to the present.

"Sorry," she said, resuming their slow stroll along the shoreline, holding hands. "I was just thinking about… doing something… and…," she suddenly gasped, looking down at the object protruding from the sand. "Hey… Look at that!"

"Yea, it's a beautiful sunset," Marco replied, trying hard to stifle his giggle. He knew that the sunset was not what Beverly was looking at… and the dream, the revelation she had been about to share with him was quickly forgotten by them both.

"No, silly," she responded, releasing his hand and using it to slap him playfully on the shoulder then rushing ahead, pointing at the object that seemed to have been exposed by the waves. "This!"

Marco watched as she knelt down in the sand, using her hands to uncover the partially buried bottle.

"It's… an old bottle!"

"Wow… are you kidding me?" Marco responded, proud of his acting job.

"No… Really… Look…," she said, standing up and turning it over and over in her hands as she tried to clean the seaweed that had been wrapped around the neck.

'Good job, Chet,' Marco thought, seeing the tiny note rolled up inside of it that was revealed as the pieces of kelp were peeled away.

"Ohmygod, Marco! Look! There's a note in it!"

"Hmm?"

Marco watched at the childlike wonder on her face as she pulled the cork out of the top and shook the bottle. He fought the urge to grin when he saw that the note he had written had been rolled up tightly and the ends twisted so that it would easily slide out of its upturned container.

Beverly slipped the bottle beneath her arm and began to unfurl the wrinkled paper. Turning her back to the water so that the setting sun would cast its final fading glow on the note, she allowed her lips to move as she read the intentionally unrecognizable writing.

She quickly gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, inadvertently dropping the bottle onto the sand. "Marco… It's a love letter… Listen to this," She announced, feeling the backs of her eyes beginning to sting. "My life was incomplete before I met you. Now, all I think about is waking up beside you every morning…" She looked up at Marco then quickly returned her eyes to the wrinkled paper in her hands. "Ohh, that's so sweet." Who could have possibly written such a note, and why had it been tossed into the ocean? She reread the words, feeling Marco reaching gently for her left hand that was still covering her mouth and slowly pulling it downward, but she continued reading the note out loud. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

She continued staring at the note, unaware of what Marco was doing. "I can't believe that it was just washed up here… And we're the ones… who… found…," she hesitated, shifting her eyes from the note to Marco. "Ohmygod," she whispered in a raspy voice, her breath hitching as she looked down at the man she loved who had just dropped onto one knee and was holding a diamond ring poised to be placed on her left hand… if she would accept it.

"Beverly… The day we met was the day I found my true love. I didn't know it at first, but the more I got to know you, the more I realized that I couldn't… couldn't live… without you," Marco clenched his teeth together. He had so much he wanted to say to her, but his voice began to quiver. He knew he had to say it quickly, or lose the opportunity. "I want to… spend… every sunset… with you, Bev… Will you make me… the happiest man… on earth… and… marry me?"

With tears of joy streaming down her face, she struggled to find her voice. Instead of vocalizing her answer, she began to rapidly nod her head in affirmation.

Marco slipped the diamond ring onto her finger, then stood up where he was quickly enveloped in a hug. Having her arms around his neck, her body pressed against his, he knew that this was exactly how he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

"I love you, Beverly Marsh," he said, stroking her hair as he inhaled the scent of her shampoo mixed with the saltiness of the ocean spray.

"I.. love you… too, Marco," she managed to say, pushing past the emotions spilling onto her cheeks. "And I can't believe… I'm going to be… Mrs. Marco Lopez," she whispered.

Marco released her from the embrace, using his fingers to tuck the blowing strands of hair behind her ear. He kissed her lightly on her lips, cupping her face. Their lips parted and the kiss deepened, neither of them aware that Chet was busily photographing the moment for them.

When the kiss ended, she pulled away from him, a sparkle glowing in her green eyes. "How? How on earth did you do this?" she asked, finally realizing that it had all been a set up.

"I had a little help from Chet and Caroline," he said, placing his arm around her waist as they walked back towards the parking lot. He caught a glimpse of Chet backing out of a parking spot in Caroline's car. He made a mental note to properly thank his partner for helping him pull this off… and to ask him to stand up with him as his best man when he and Beverly tied the knot.

The two sat at the picnic table nearest Marco's burgundy sedan, enjoying the relaxing sounds of the ocean and the comforting presence of each other for the first hour of their engagement. Then, as the final magenta streaks of the sunset slipped beneath the undulating waves of the Pacific Ocean, Marco opened the door of his sedan, smiling at the gasp she released when she saw the bouquet and stuffed animal awaiting her. He assisted Beverly and helped her open the long box of roses.

"Oh, Marco… These are… beautiful!"

"So are you," he said with a smile, seeing the delight on her face as she caressed the small stuffed bear.

"My Marco-bear," she said with a giggle, snuggling the stuffed animal much like a child would do.

He smiled wistfully as he remembered Caroline's comment about their future children. Would this special bear one day call the crib of Baby Lopez its home? He closed the door and walked around to the driver's side of the sedan. As soon as he cranked it up, he knew that Chet had added his own special touch to a very special evening when the melodious sounds of Jim Croce wafted through the vehicle.

E!

A/N: Okay, readers will have to use their imagination to hear the song "Time in a Bottle," by Jim Croce because this site doesn't allow lyrics to be used, even when they are cited - ridiculous! Okay, my 'Johnny-rant' is over. Thank you for reading this story and I hope you enjoy the rest of it.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The sun cast its first rays of light into Marco's bedroom, rousing him from a deep and peaceful slumber. Without opening his eyes, he snuggled Beverly a little closer, appreciating the way their bodies seemed to fit together like two spoons.

"Mmm," she moaned, enjoying the safety and comfort of his strong arms. She peeked down at the ring on her left hand and smiled. It was physical proof that someone loved her. "I can't wait to do this every morning."

Without missing a beat, Marco's gruff voice responded. "And I can't wait for a repeat performance of last night." He felt her begin to shift her position, so he rolled from his side onto his back, pulling her with him.

Beverly laid her cheek against his chest, listening to the sounds of his breathing and heartbeat. "Thank you for showing me how wonderful love can be," she said, running her fingers through the hair on his chest, tilting her engagement ring so that it sparkled in the sunlight.

He kissed her lightly on the top of her mussed up hair, grateful that she seemed to be feeling stronger. Obviously, her anemia was improving, and the wounds sustained in her fall were healing well. There was still some discoloration along her forehead and a bandage remained covering the cut on her left wrist. However, her health issues certainly hadn't seemed to hinder the romance they had enjoyed the previous night. "I've got a lot more to show you," he growled playfully.

"I'm sure you do," she laughed. "But it'll have to wait until you get off shift. I don't want you to be late, and I need to run home and get ready for a group session at the Wellhouse."

As she sat up in bed, Marco watched her for any unusual signs of fatigue or pain. Seeing none, he decided to question her a little further to confirm that she was okay. "Baby… Are you sure you're ready to go back to work?"

"Yes," she began, appreciating his concern. Too many times her pimp had pushed her to work the streets when she should have been hospitalized. Now, the man she loved was so concerned about her, that he really wanted her to spend more time recovering than was actually necessary. "Like I've told you before… This," she said, pointing at the faint bruise on her forehead, "is nothing. I've worked much harder when I was in much worse shape."

Marco stood in front of her, admiring both her dedication and her determination. "But no one is forcing you to go to work today. I just want to know that you're okay."

She smiled lovingly at her fiancé. "I promise… I'll be fine."

As Marco set about his morning routine, Beverly sat quietly on the edge of the bed, admiring the sparkle on her left hand. As soon as he had finished his quick shower and brushed his teeth, he returned to packing his duffel bag. He watched her for a moment, seeing how lost in thought she seemed to be.

"Penny for your thoughts," he commented.

Beverly giggled at him. "I'm still shocked that this all happened so soon after… you know…"

Now it was Marco's turn to laugh a little. "Well, I wanted it to be a surprise, and I figured you wouldn't be expecting it this soon, so… Are you sure you like it?" he asked, knowing how she would respond.

"Are you kidding me? I love it. I've never seen anything so stunning in my life and… to think that it's on my finger… given to me by you…" She felt her eyes growing misty. Being engaged to such a loving man was going to take some getting used to.

"My Mama is certainly excited. She really loves you, Bev."

"I really love her too… all your family," she said, getting out of bed and reaching for the clothing she had hastily discarded the previous night.

Marco reached for his uniform shirt. "Did you see how much Mama cried when we showed her the ring? And she already knew about it!"

Beverly smiled wistfully, pulling her blouse over her head, carefully avoiding the tender area on her forehead. She loved her future mother-in-law more than she had ever loved her own mother, but it wasn't Maria Lopez' reaction that had surprised her the most. As if reading her mind, Marco spoke up.

"Did Lexi seem alright to you?" he asked, shoving an extra pair of socks into his bag before zipping it up. When he looked over at Beverly, he saw her slipping her shoes on. He waited for her to answer his question.

When Beverly looked up, she saw the worried look on Marco's face, and she knew that he had sensed the discord, too. She used her fingers to comb her hair out of her face, choosing her words very carefully.

"Well… I wasn't going to say anything, but… I think she'd been crying."

Marco grimaced beneath his bushy mustache. "I was hoping she was at home because she was waiting for us to come by to make our announcement, but I did think it was strange that Mike wasn't there. They've been spending most of his off time together." Marco used his fingers to stroke his mustache as he pondered his sister's appearance the night before. "I guess her eyes were a little red, weren't they?"

Beverly stood up, walking over to stand behind him as he gave himself one last look into the mirror. "Men really don't notice the little things, do you?"

Marco turned around, opening his arms and pulling her tightly against his chest, his own body reacting quickly to her closeness. "Such as…?"

"Yes, her eyes were a little red, but her eye make-up was almost completely washed off. And the biggest thing I noticed was that when I showed her my ring, she tried to smile and act happy, but her eyes were dark."

Marco gave a short sarcastic huff. "She's a Lopez; her eyes have always been dark."

Beverly recognized his comment as a diversion tactic. He was obviously uncomfortable talking about the possibility of his sister being unhappy. "Not the color, Marco… the brightness that she's had for the last few weeks was… it wasn't there."

Marco inhaled deeply. "Something must've gone wrong between her and Mike."

"That would be my guess," Beverly agreed. She remembered their conversation the previous day when Marco had told her about the misunderstanding in the restaurant parking lot. "You said that they were sexually involved now, right?"

"Mmhmm."

Beverly pulled her head away from him, keeping her hands resting on his firm chest. "I think I may know what's going on."

"Well, please enlighten me because I'm about to spend the next 24 hours with Mike, and if he's as sullen as Lexi seemed to be last night, then it'll be a very long shift."

Beverly hesitated, looking away from his pleading dark eyes. "Sort of the same thing that happened to me… to us."

"No… It's too soon to be a pregnancy scare. Besides, he definitely used a condom so…," he said, reaching for his duffel bag, not wanting to think about Mike and his sister in bed. "It's got to be something else."

Beverly stepped away from him, not wanting to hinder him from continuing to prepare for work while they talked. "Not a fear of pregnancy… A fear of the intimacy afterwards… After the act. It's something we don't know how to handle."

Marco felt his breath hitch. Why hadn't he thought about that before? He removed his duffel bag from his shoulder and walked over to his fiancée. He lightly stroked her cheek, cupping her face with his hands as he lowered his lips to hers. "I'm sorry for everything that you've been through, and I want you to know that it'll never, ever happen again," he whispered before kissing her lightly on her rosy lips.

"Nothing for you to be sorry for, Marco. It's what's made me who I am and…," she kissed him again, with more passion. "And I know now that I never have to be concerned about that with you. I know you won't abandon me…" There was more she wanted to say, but when his hot mouth clamped down on hers, she became lost in the physical sensations.

Their kiss deepened, and neither one wanted it to end. Their bodies were crushed together tightly, and their hands began to roam over what was becoming familiar territory for them both. When the kiss finally ended, they both looked deeply into each other's eyes.

"I'll try to talk to her today," Beverly said.

"And I'll see what Mike has to say. Should I let him approach me first?"

Beverly shouldered her purse, reaching inside for her car keys. "You know him better than I do. That'll have to be your call."

"I know," he replied, following her out the door of his apartment. He thought about it as he walked her to her car. "I guess it could be something else that's going on with my sister so… I suppose I'll see what Mike has to say first."

E!

Mike wheeled into the parking lot behind Station 51, realizing that he couldn't remember the drive from his apartment. He pulled into a vacant spot beside Hank's car, shifting the gear of his pick-up into park. His night had been restless; and now he was beginning his shift exhausted. He briefly considered asking for a replacement, but decided that being miserable at home alone was worse than being exhausted at work. He had pulled many double shifts before; this would simply seem like another one of those.

He opened his truck door, catching a glimpse of burgundy pulling in on his passenger's side.

"Ugh… damn it."

The engineer reached for the handles of his duffel bag, quickly turning away from his senior lineman. He knew he would have to face Marco at some point, but he needed a cup of coffee to jumpstart his brain before he had a conversation with the brother of his girlfriend… or was she his ex-girlfriend?

"Good morning, Mike," Marco said, hoping his voice didn't betray his concern.

The taller man turned sideways to look at his shiftmate. "Hey, man," he said before resuming his long strides across the back parking lot.

Before either man spoke another word, the C-shift engineer came bolting out of the apparatus bay, a wide grin covering his face. He turned his head to the side, shouting over his shoulder. "STOKER'S HERE!"

Marco and Mike both knew what the shouting was about, and both offered the departing man a smile.

"Is it time?" Marco questioned, assuming he knew the answer.

"Yep; she jus' called. Her water broke. I'm gonna be a dad soon! WOOHOO!" he shouted as he jumped into his car, peeling out of the parking lot, narrowly missing the gold Porsche of Roy DeSoto as it came to a stop in his usual parking spot.

"I'd better go check in," Mike commented, thankful that he was already dressed in his uniform, and for the excuse to avoid talking to Marco for a little while longer.

Marco reached out with his right hand. "I'll put your bag in your locker," he offered.

"Thanks," the engineer replied, passing his bag off to Marco. "I appreciate it."

Just as Mike stepped into the shadows of the station, he was met by Captain Hookraider, the ornery C-shift leader.

"Stoker, mind takin' over a half-hour early so I won't have to take the engine out o' service? It seems my engineer has better things to do than haul around a bunch o' hose jockeys," he groused, but his unusual grin let Mike know how he really felt about the impending birth. Even a hard-nosed grouch like Hookraider had a soft spot in his heart for babies.

"No problem," the A-shift man responded, knowing he really didn't have a choice. Thinking quickly, he spoke up again. "If you need me to cover his next shift, I don't mind. I haven't been getting much OT lately. I was going to sign up with headquarters, anyway."

"That'd save me a hassle. Much obliged, Stoker," the gray-haired man replied, then turned walking back to the captain's office to finish completing the log books before handing the station over to Captain Stanley. "Hank's in the kitchen havin' some breakfast with the rest o' my crew. I'm sure there's a little left if you want to join 'em."

Roy, having settled down after the near collision with the exiting engineer, exited his vehicle and headed across the back parking lot. The grouchy supervisor offered the on-coming paramedic a silent nod as a greeting; seeing the knowing look on the younger man's face, he gave him a wry smile.

"Baby coming?" Roy asked, pausing for a confirmation before continuing towards the locker room.

"Yea…," Hookraider groused. "Kid's got damn good timin', huh? Waited 'til Stoker got here for shift change," the older man chuckled.

Inside the station, Mike flattened his palm against the kitchen door, but before he had pushed it open, the klaxons sounded. He rushed to pull on his helmet and turnout coat, then boarded the engine, albeit with a different crew. "Thank God for small miracles," he mumbled to himself as he stepped into the familiarity of Big Red – a place where he felt a sense of control, unlike his personal life.

Half an hour later, Hank Stanley stood in front of part of his crew, clipboard resting against his hip. He turned his watch over, noting that his junior lineman had exactly 52 seconds to line up, or face the wrath of a frustrated fire captain.

Suddenly, the locker room door bolted open. "I'm here," Chet called out, skittering to a stop at the end of the line-up, trying-but-failing to hide his smirk. When he looked at the others, he was mystified. "What…"

"Is there a problem, Kelly?" Hank asked, recognizing the look that often preceded a visit from the Phantom.

"Uh, no sir, Cap… But, uh… Where's Gage and Stoker?"

"Mike clocked in a little early, so he's on a run. Dwyer will be staying on for another 24 hours with us because John won't be joining us today; his parents are here, in LA, and he's visiting with them," Hank explained, fighting his own cheek muscles not to grin. The time Chet had spent rigging whatever prank he had planned was simply time wasted… and those extra couple of minutes resulted in his latrine assignment.

"Damn," the lineman mumbled, quickly clearing his throat and standing at attention. "Ahem, I mean… his parents… that's great. Really, that's far out!"

Marco contemplated waiting until his engineer returned to share his news, but he assumed that Lexi had shared his plans with Mike before they had their disagreement… if that's what it was. Therefore, he decided to go ahead and make his announcement. "Uh, Cap?"

"Yes?"

The Latino lineman couldn't stop the smile that lit up his tan face. "I'd like to make an announcement, please."

"Sure, Lopez, go ahead."

Marco suddenly felt nervous and rocked back on his heels, but his happiness could not be contained. His eyes lit up like a child seeing Santa Claus. "Um, fellas… She sad YES!"

E!

Mike stood sentinel beside the engine, having parked it at an angle near the alley to limit the victim's exposure to curious onlookers. He knew the area well and kept a watchful eye on all the street corners, checking for a specific type of loiter. If the victim was involved in the sordid business he suspected, then her trafficker was likely nearby. Hearing the shuffling of boots walking up beside him, he shifted his eyes to his current captain.

"This is strictly a medical call, but we'd better stick around to offer our medics a little protection," Hookraider announced, surveying the scene.

Mike pressed his lips into a thin line, understanding what the captain meant. This was a seedy section of the county, and if there were any drug addicts nearby, they might decide to attack the paramedics in search of narcotics.

"Why haven't the police gotten here, yet?" the engineer questioned.

The hardened fire captain scratched the back of his neck, dipping his chin to lower the volume of his voice. "Hell if I know. I guess they think it's jus' a bullshit run, too."

Mike lifted one eyebrow, feeling his hackles rising. "What do you mean?"

Hookraider nodded his head in the direction of the alley where his paramedics were working on their victim. He lowered his voice, not wanting to be overheard by a civilian. "Jus' another hooker; somebody beat the shit out of her."

Mike felt his blood begin to boil at the callousness in the older man's voice.

"You'd think they'd learn their lesson about doin' this kind o' work," the captain complained, seemingly exasperated by their victim.

Mike knew better than to say what was on his mind. He couldn't afford a reprimand in his personnel file, even though the recent accusations against him for arson had been proven to be false. He preferred to steer clear of the department brass. However, he had never been more tempted to punch a superior officer in his entire career. Victims were the reason for their work, not an interruption of it – even though the aging fire captain seemed to have a differing opinion.

"Well… We don't know her story, Cap… Um, is she going to be okay?" Mike asked, needing to turn the conversation away from the victim's means of supporting herself and onto her current condition.

"I dunno," Hookraider mumbled, turning away when he heard the sound of the police car screeching to a halt near them. "I'd better go fill the cops in on what we've got," he added as he walked away.

Mike exhaled his breath, grateful that the captain had left him alone. He glanced at his watch, wondering if Beverly would be at work today. He wanted to call her and let her know that she might have another victim in need of rescuing. First, he needed to know the condition of their patient. He stepped around to the opposite side of the engine just as the ambulance arrived on the scene.

Mike stood looking at their victim while she was being readied for transport. Her eyes were swollen; her lips were bruised and cut. There was a large bandage above her left eye, and her right arm was in a splint. Mike watched as Dwyer stood up, lifting the IV bag above the patient while the attendants secured her on the gurney. As soon as she was loaded into the back of the ambulance, Dwyer passed the IV bag and the biophone to his paramedic partner.

"I'll pick you up at Rampart," the C-shift paramedic announced before closing the doors and giving them the customary two slaps. 

"How's she doing, Dwyer?" Mike asked, walking with the paramedic back to the rigs.

"She'll make it, but she'll be in the hospital for a while. Somebody really did a number on her."

"Prostitute, right?" Mike queried, cringing when he said the word that brought back so many memories of his time with Lexi when she was on the streets.

"Yeah… Maybe this'll be her wake-up call," Dwyer commented, stowing the equipment in the compartments of the squad.

"Yeah… Maybe," Mike responded, stepping over to the driver's side of the engine.

Returning the C-shift crew to the station, Mike backed the engine into the apparatus bay, and saw Captain Stanley exiting his office with his coffee cup dangling in the crook of his index finger. Mike stepped down from the engine, following his regular shift captain into the kitchen while the relieved men headed for the locker room.

"Hey, Cap? Mind if I use the phone in your office?" he asked, holding the kitchen door open with his hand.

Marco looked up, locking eyes with his engineer for a brief moment, disheartened when Mike quickly diverted his gaze. He mentally crossed his fingers, hoping that the phone call might be to Lexi.

"Sure, pal," Hank replied, pouring his second cup of coffee. "But give Roy a couple of minutes to sweep the floor in there, alright? Besides, shouldn't you congratulate Marco first?"

"Congratulations… What for?" the engineer asked.

Marco continued washing the breakfast dishes as he answered Mike's question. "I thought Lexi would've told you." He looked over at his friend, smiling. "Beverly said yes."

Mike managed to offer a congratulatory smile to Marco. "That's great man. I'm happy for you… How's she feeling?"

Marco gave his friend a warm smile, grateful that he was asking about Beverly. She really was being accepted as a member of the 51 family, as was evident by the way they had treated her during her rescue the previous week.

"Much better," he said, drying a few utensils before placing them in a drawer. "She went back to work today."

"Good, that's good," the engineer said, glad to have received the answer to the question he hadn't even asked. "Um… that run we just got back from… I really need to talk to Beverly about the victim," he said. "What's the number to the Wellhouse?"

Marco used the damp dishcloth to wipe off the counter top while he rattled off the number to his engineer. Obviously, the private phone call wasn't to Lexi after all - a fact that disappointed Marco.

Mike wrote down the number on a small pad, then poured himself a glass of orange juice while he waited for Roy to finish cleaning the private office. "What do you have for me to do, Cap?"

"Dorms," Hank replied, sipping his fresh coffee while he perused the headlines of the morning paper.

By the time Mike finished his juice, Roy walked by the open kitchen door. "All done, Cap."

"I'll be quick," Mike said, knowing his captain had plenty of work to do in his office.

Hank shifted his position in his chair as he turned the page, thankful for the quiet the klaxons were offering. "No rush, Mike. Take your time."

Mike hurried to the captain's office, hoping they wouldn't get a run for the next few minutes, at least long enough to talk to Beverly. He dialed the number, tapping his fingers on the desk as the ringing began. It was quickly answered on the second ring.

"Wellhouse," came the female voice.

"Yes, this is Firefighter Mike Stoker," he began, knowing he needed to identify himself if he wanted to be allowed to speak to anyone at the shelter. The staff was always on guard for predatory traffickers trying to lure the women away. "May I speak to Beverly Marsh, please?"

"Oh, Mike. Hi, it's Bri… Nice to hear your voice."

"Same here. How've you been?" the engineer questioned. He hadn't seen her in several weeks, but he knew that Mrs. Lopez and Lexi were anxiously awaiting her discharge from the safe house. Her room was ready and waiting for her at the Lopez residence.

"I'm doing good, thanks. I might be able to leave here in the next day or so. I'm so excited… but…"

"But nervous?" he asked, remembering his long talks with Lexi as she had gone through the transition from the Wellhouse back to her family home.

"Yea… kind of… But I'm really grateful that Mrs. Lopez is going to let me stay there until I can get back on my feet."

Mike smiled at the thought of Maria mothering and mentoring another young woman. The home of Mama Lopez was the perfect place for a wounded soul to heal. "She's looking forward to having you there… Lexi is too," he added, wondering if Lexi and Bri had spoken since Lexi had basically kicked Mike out of her life… at least, that was how it felt to him.

"Yea," Bri said, her voice bubbly. She sounded so different from the young woman who had testified at Mike's personnel hearing. "I'm going to talk to her about my moving in as soon as she gets here. Um… here's Beverly."

Mike could hear the switching of the phone from one person to another and the whispered sound of his name being spoken. He cringed, knowing that receiving a call from Station 51 that wasn't from Marco would be frightening to Beverly. Why hadn't he thought to tell Bri that this wasn't about Marco?

"Hello? Mike? Is everything okay?" Beverly asked, fighting with her emotions.

"Yes, nothing's wrong, Beverly. I didn't mean to alarm you. I just went on a run with C-shift and, uh, there's a young woman at Rampart right now who could really use your services," Mike quickly explained.

"Oh my… I'm about to start a group session. How long will she be there?"

Mike sighed, knowing that the young victim would not be given a medical release for a few days due to the extent of her injuries, but he also knew that women in her situation were prime candidates for elopement. "She's got injuries that will keep her there for a while… assuming that she doesn't leave against medical advice, but the injuries aren't life-threatening."

"Good… that's good… I mean, not good, but I'm glad that I can get to her before she's released. The only problem is that the Wellhouse is full right now," she stated, biting her lower lip. "Of course, Bri might be leaving soon, so that might actually work out… if your victim is ready to leave the life," she said, continuing to think out loud.

Mike smiled; he understood why Marco had fallen in love with Beverly. She had a heart the size of Texas. "Thank you, Beverly. I appreciate it. Um," he hesitated, wondering if he should mention his issues with Lexi. Deciding that he could at least send her a message, he spoke up. "Please tell Lexi hello for me and… and that I love her, okay?"

"I sure will… If you'll tell Marco that I love him."

"Deal," Mike snickered. "Thank you, Beverly… Oh, and I understand that you've added a certain sparkle to your left hand."

"Hahaha," she laughed, enjoying the jovial feeling that had surrounded her since she had accepted Marco's proposal. "Yes, it's beautiful. Marco did an amazing job choosing it."

The engineer grinned. "I think Marco did an amazing job choosing a wife."

"Thank you, Mike. Your support means a lot to both of us. I'll head over to Rampart as soon as I finish with the group session this morning."

"That's perfect. I'll call the emergency department and let the staff know that you'll be coming over. If the victim does try to leave before she's medically ready, maybe they can stall her long enough for you to get there," Mike commented.

"Sounds like a plan. Thanks again, Mike," she replied, then hung up the phone, returning to the women who needed her and preparing mentally for her next potential rescue.

Mike hung up the phone, perusing the bulletin board above the desk in search of the phone number to the emergency department of Rampart. As soon as he had relayed his message to Dixie, he stood up, hesitating for a moment, wondering what he would say to Marco… or what Marco might say to him. "Might as well get this over with," he grumbled to himself, walking out the door towards the kitchen. He needed a cup of coffee before he faced the impending conversation.

Mike entered the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee pot. "Beverly said to tell you hello, and that she loves you," he said as he walked past Marco and quickly poured his hot java. With his mind focused on Marco, Mike sipped the coffee before it had cooled. "Owe, damn," he hissed.

Marco reached inside the freezer, withdrawing an ice tray and removing a couple of ice cubes. He wrapped them in a paper towel, dampening it slightly before handing it to Mike. "Here you go, hot lips," he chuckled.

"Gee, thanks," the perturbed engineer responded, rolling his eyes as he accepted the proffered burn relief.

Marco wanted to ask Mike if something had gone wrong with Lexi, but he didn't want to do that with their superior in the room. He tightened his jaw muscles and began looking through the cabinets for the ingredients he would need to make their noon meal while he contemplated how to broach the subject of his sister's depressed mood. Before he had a chance to speak, Mike tossed the ice pack into the trash and headed out the kitchen door. Marco's conversation would have to wait until later.

The crispness of the Autumn air made the semi-empty apparatus bay feel cooler than usual to Mike, who skillfully carried an armload of sheets while giving the returning squad a wide berth; knowing that the paramedics were probably sleep-deprived, but only one would be going home now. He waited for Dwyer to exit the vehicle.

"How's the girl?" the concerned engineer asked, basically ignoring the departing paramedic.

"Lucky… this time," the remaining paramedic responded, slamming the door closed. "She'll be staying at hotel Rampart for a couple of days, though. Gonna need surgery on her arm."

Mike felt a sense of relief as he used his shoulder to open the door to the dorm. At least Beverly would have a chance to offer the young woman the safety of the Wellhouse.

The tones chose that moment to drop, their volume preventing Dwyer's mumbled curse from being heard by the rest of the men. He was famished, having missed breakfast, and needed to replenish his energy for the second half of his double shift. When Sam Lanier's voice summoned only the engine, he silently thanked the fire house gods, and trudged towards the kitchen, nearly bumping into Marco as the lineman made his hasty exit in response to the klaxon.

The call was a relatively minor one - a small grass fire in an abandoned lot. There had been no structural damage and there appeared to be no foul play. Most fires of this nature were the result of careless smokers tossing cigarette butts out of their windows. An hour later, the engine crew had returned to the station and were busy with their chores.

Marco, his mind still focused on his sister's situation, removed the nearly filled garbage bag from the kitchen trashcan and carried it out the kitchen exit, depositing it into the outside garbage cans. As he turned to head back inside, he saw Johnny's dingy white Rover turning into the driveway. He closed the door, seeing his captain standing at the kitchen sink, pouring out the cold contents of his favorite coffee mug.

"Cap, I think John's here," the lineman announced.

Hank gently set the empty cup in the sink. "Well, let's go meet the Gages.

E!

As the women at the Wellhouse were busy chatting with each other as they waited for the group session to start, Beverly pulled Bri aside to discuss her future, privately. She closed the door of her office, gesturing for the younger woman to take a seat. She needed to know Bri's plans before she went to Rampart. The counselor knew that she couldn't offer a bed at the shelter unless she knew that one was about to become available, but she also didn't want to rush Bri back into the real world until the young woman was completely ready and the only person who knew when the time was right, was Bri.

"So… How are you feeling about everything?"

Bri having overheard enough of Beverly's conversation with Mike, responded enthusiastically. "I'm ready to leave here, Beverly; today if you need me to."

The older woman raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Ahem… I'm assuming Mike told you the purpose of his call?" 

"No," Bri responded, dropping her gaze to her lap. "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop; I promise."

"But you know that there might be someone else who needs a place to stay for a while; am I right?"

Bri nodded. "You've helped me so much, Beverly. You've given me the courage to stand on my own two feet, and you've helped me believe that I'm worth something in this world. I don't know who it is that might need my bed here, but I'm able to give it to her and move on. I'm ready to move in with Lexi and her mom."

Hearing Lexi's name reminded Beverly of her promise to Marco to try to find out what was going on with his young sister. She pressed her lips together tightly, wondering if maybe Bri might know the answer.

"Bri… Don't make this decision based on what someone else might need. You've got to put yourself first for a little while longer," Beverly commented, ensuring that Bri was making an informed decision before asking her about her friend.

"I know… but I really think that I'm ready… I just kind of needed a little push and… and I think this might be just what I needed to let me know that the time is right. This is right… I really believe that."

"You're an amazing young woman, Bri, and you have such a bright future ahead of you," Beverly responded, a wide grin adorning her face. "Um… speaking of amazing young women, how do you think Lexi's doing?"

"I dunno, good I guess. I haven't really talked to her much. She spends most of her time with Mike now. Why?"

Realizing that Bri knew nothing about Lexi's sudden mood change, Beverly decided to give her a brief explanation, knowing it would be followed by additional questions from the younger woman. "Well… Marco and I went by the Lopez home last night to make an… um, an announcement and she acted kind of… sullen."

Bri grinned knowingly. "An announcement?"

Beverly held up her left hand, her new ring glittering in the office light… and her future sister-in-law temporarily forgotten.

"Ahhh," Bri said sucking in her breath. She reached for Beverly's left hand, her eyes sparkling. "Wow… This is beautiful! I think YOUR future is looking bright, too."

"Yes, it just brightened up yesterday afternoon," the counselor replied with a girlish giggle. "Let's go to our group meeting, and I'll tell you girls all about it."

E!

Behind Station 51, Johnny pulled the Rover to a stop. "This is it," he announced, proudly. "The rigs are here, so the fellas aren't out on a run. You'll get to meet my friends."

"We're looking forward to it," Sharon said, opening the passenger's side door and stepping out. She pulled her seat forward, freeing her husband from the backseat of the two-door vehicle.

Roddy stretched his long limbs as he exited the Rover. He looked around at the hose tower and basketball goal, then finally surveyed the back of the building.

"This is much nicer than anything we've got back home," the older Gage stated.

Johnny stood with his parents, thinking about the impoverished infrastructure he had known as a child. "Yea," he mused. "LA County does have a much larger budget than what the public services have back on the reservation."

The dark-haired paramedic began walking excitedly towards the open rear bay door, when he saw a familiar figure walking towards him, his lanky frame casting a thin shadow across the parking lot as it moved towards Johnny.

"John! Good to see ya, Pal." Hank didn't wait for his medic to make introductions. "Hi I'm Hank Stanley, the captain of John's shift," he said, extending his hand to Roddy. "You must be Roderick Gage."

"Yes, but just call me Roddy," the other man commented with a smile, offering a firm handshake in return. "It's nice to meet you. Johnny has told us a lot of wonderful things about you."

Hank felt himself blush. "Well, thank you, Roddy, and I'll tell you that John is one of the finest paramedics in the entire county. You should be very proud of him."

"Oh, we are, Captain Stanley," Sharon spoke up. "I'm Sharon, by the way."

"It's a pleasure, ma'am," the fire captain replied. He was about to say more, but was interrupted by his senior medic.

"Welcome back, Junior," Roy said, patting his partner on the shoulder.

"Mom, Dad, this is Roy DeSoto," Johnny said, unable to contain his trademark grin.

Johnny noticed that Mike, Marco, and Dwyer were walking up behind Roy, and he quickly made the introductions. After a few moments of small talk, he glanced around in search of their missing man.

"Uh, Cap… Where's Chet?"

Hank rolled his eyes, jerking his head towards the latrine. "Doing what he does best," the captain chuckled.

"That's because he gets so much practice," Marco said with a snicker.

"Well deserved practice," Mike added.

"Okay, well, I guess we can start the tour there." Johnny escorted his parents towards the locker room as the other men returned to their chores.

"And I'll start a new pot of coffee," Hank responded, hoping for a chance to get to know Johnny's parents.

As Johnny approached the latrine door, he knocked on it while pushing it open just enough to stick his head inside. "Hey, Kelly… Are ya decent?"

"Oh, real funny, Gage," Chet announced as he flushed the toilet, unaware of the two guests who were walking into the room with his shiftmate. When he backed his way out of the stall, holding the toilet brush like a scepter, his pale Irish face burned crimson red.

"Oh, pardon me," he blanched. Seeing the physical similarities between the older man and Johnny, he immediately knew the identity of the couple. "Hey… You must be Johnny's parents," he said, extending his right hand.

Roddy knitted his eyebrows together, not wanting to shake the hand of the man who had just cleaned the station toilet.

Chet realized his faux pas and jerked his hand back. "Oh, uh, sorry," he said with a grimace, his cheeks flaming. He turned his back on the Gages, using his knee to push the rolling mop bucket in front of the shower stall, giving him access to the nearest sink. He wanted to wash his hands before they got another run, and he wanted to continue chatting with the parents of his favorite pigeon.

The lineman finished cleaning up, then cast a quick glance in the mirror while he dried his hands. Behind him, he saw a sight that sent his heart surging into his throat, blocking his next breath. His eyes widened in abject horror, sending his bushy eyebrows into hiding beneath the curly dark hair above his forehead. He opened his mouth to try to stop what was about to happen, but his voice became lodged in his throat. As if in slow motion, he watched as Johnny proudly reached for the door of his locker.

Johnny had been waiting patiently to show his father the poster that he had referenced during their talk on the Edmund Pettus Bridge. "I want you to see somethin', Dad," he said, reaching for the handle of his locker. "I told you that the bear had been protecting me ever since I came to work here," he reminded Roddy as he pulled open the door, stealthily leaning slightly to his left – a move that had become so habitual that he rarely even realized that he was doing it. The familiar echoing boing of a spring being released seemed to be amplified in the room.

"CHET, YOU JERK!"

The junior lineman spun around in shock, his knee bumping into the rolling mop bucket and sending it cruising towards the door. "Owe, sonofa… ugh!" he grumbled, somehow managing to halt the curse that was perched on his lips as he stumbled over the cleaning cart, the shower stall door preventing his fall.

Roy, who had been removing towels from the laundry facilities in the back of the bay, bolted into action at the sounds emanating from the locker room. The medic shoved his way into the latrine, the door crashing into the cart and pinballing it back towards the guilty lineman. The forward momentum of the cleaning cart, aided by the weight of the dirty water still in the bucket, slammed into the unsteady lineman. With one hand sliding down the newly cleaned shower stall door, Chet desperately reached out with the other hand in search of anything that might offer him an anchor. His flailing hand narrowly missed the nearest sink, but connected solidly with the mop bucket, tipping it over and leaving both the lineman and the floor completely drenched.

Inside the kitchen, Hank scrunched his eyes tightly when he heard the commotion followed by the all too familiar angry shout of his junior paramedic. He ran a palm down his face with a sigh as he pushed away from the kitchen table. Had his lineman really done the unthinkable in the presence of station guests?

The captain followed the rest of his crew as they ran behind the rigs, their boots making scuffing sounds as they headed towards the latrine. There, sprawled on the floor, doused in filthy water, was his lineman and standing in front of Johnny's locker with water-soaked bangs clinging to her forehead and rivulets streaking down her face, was Sharon Gage.

Roy quickly grabbed a clean towel, handing it to Mrs. Gage while Hank set about trying to apologize for the misdeeds of his lineman.

"Sharon, I'm so sorry," the fire captain began.

"It's not your fault, Cap," Johnny groused. "It's Kelly's. He… Argh!" the lanky paramedic yelped, turning and pointing an angry finger at his fallen nemesis, but inadvertently slipping in the puddle of water and landing face first against Chet's wet chest.

"Get off me, Johnny!"

Johnny groaned, trying to raise up onto his knees. "Why don't you go play on the freeway?" Johnny retorted as he clumsily shifted his weight off of the soggy Irishman, momentarily forgetting that his parents were present.

The stories Johnny had told Sharon and Roddy about Chet suddenly rushed forward in their minds, and they both burst into uncontrolled laughter.

"Oh, goodness," Sharon cried out, tears of laughter dampening her already moist face. She accepted the white towel from Roy, using it to pat herself dry. "Hank how on earth do you get these two," she continued, waving her towel-laden hand towards the bickering duo on the floor, "to put out fires when they spend so much time dousing each other?"

"Ma'am," Hank began, crossing his arms over his chest, still infuriated by the station antics of the Phantom. "It isn't easy, but despite this fine display of station foolery," he said, aiming his words and his glare at Chet. "I assure you that this crew is truly exceptional."

"Exceptionally clumsy," Dwyer mumbled, unable to stop the grin that adorned his lips.

Johnny pressed his lips together, turning his head to glare into Chet's guilty blue eyes. "You WILL pay for this, ya know."

Chet raised his shoulders up near his ears. "But Gage, it wasn't me… It was-"

"The Phantom, yea, yea… I know, I know. Save it, Kelly," Johnny groused. Then remembering the souvenir he had purchased in the airport on his way back to Los Angeles, the peeved paramedic raised one skinny finger and pointed it straight at the Irishman's chest. "Soon… Very soon… The Phantom's gonna get what's comin' to 'im."

"Chet, get this mess cleaned up," Hank ordered. "And take a shower yourself before we get a run." The fire captain extended his hand to help Johnny back on his feet. "John, I really am sorry this happened. Do you have any extra clothes here?"

"Yea… I'll change in a minute, and we'll be on our way."

"Why don't I finish showing your parents around while you clean up. There's no need to rush your visit just because of…" He hesitated, turning his face back towards the retreating form of his guilty man. "Of what that twit did. Why don't you all stay and have lunch with us?"

"Oh, we can't impose on you, Hank," Sharon blurted out, already liking the men her son worked with, even the one who had created the near-disaster.

"Oh, no ma'am; it's no imposition. Besides," he began, escorting the Gages out of the locker room, but making sure that his booming voice was heard by everyone present. "It's Chet's turn to do the dishes, so having a few more to wash won't be any problem at all… right, Kelly?" he called out over his shoulder.

Chet rolled his eyes, shaking his curly-haired head in defeat. He sighed, leaning heavily against the tile wall. He knew he was in big trouble; kitchen clean-up probably wouldn't be the last task added to his chore list for this shift. He just hoped a reprimand wouldn't be forthcoming, as well.

"No sir, Cap. Happy to do it," he called back, refusing to look in Johnny's direction.

Johnny stepped over to his locker to retrieve the extra clothing he kept there. His Cheshire cat grin softened the chiseled facial features his anger had firmly set in place earlier. Chet was going to get his punishment by their captain during this shift, but Johnny had an even bigger surprise in store for the Phantom. And with a little help from his friends, it would be even better than the fake eye test they had pulled on the unsuspecting lineman a few months ago.


	3. Chapter 3

Warning: Extreme language

Chapter 3

As soon as the group therapy session was over, Bri and Lexi spent a few minutes meandering about, talking to various members of the support group as they broke up the circle of chairs and returned them to their original positions throughout the house. After the others had left, and Beverly had walked into her office to prepare to meet the victim at Rampart, Bri approached her friend, lowering her voice.

"Lexi, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Lexi, whose mind had been wandering all morning, lifted her eyebrows when she heard her name. "Um, did you say something?"

"Yea," Bri acknowledged, concerned about Lexi's obvious lack of focus and somber mood. "Are you okay?"

Lexi looked down for a moment, reaching up to twist a lock of hair around her index finger. "Um, yea, of course… why wouldn't I be?"

"Because I know you, Lex," the other woman responded, wrapping an arm around her friend's shoulders. "C'mon… Let's go out back and talk… I have some news to share with you."

Inside her office, Beverly watched through her window as the two young women walked across the back lawn, taking seats in the large wooden garden swing. She could tell by Lexi's body language and downtrodden demeanor, that something was very wrong. There were two possibilities – either one of Ricardo's cronies had gotten to her, making threats against her family if she didn't return to the streets, or - and this one was much more likely - Lexi and Mike had gotten into an argument.

"Oh, Lexi… You've come so far… Don't give up on your dreams for a happy future," the counselor whispered to herself, hoping that Bri would be able to reach Lexi.

The thought of giving up on dreams caused Beverly's eyes to become misty. She looked down at her ring, smiling as it glistened on her finger. She seemed so close to having everything she ever wanted, but in order to become a licensed psychologist, she would have to give up on being a wife and mother, and that was a sacrifice she wasn't willing to make. Marco truly was the love of her life, and she silently prayed that one day they would be blessed with a child. Having a husband and a child would make her life complete – almost.

She inhaled a ragged breath, blinking back the tears. She reached into her desk drawer and withdrew the graduate school application that she had completed, but never mailed. The deadline was fast approaching, but she knew that she couldn't do it. Marco's job didn't pay a lot of money, certainly not enough to fund her schooling. She had planned on seeking student loans to pay for it, but while she was willing to put herself in debt for her future, she refused to ask her fiancé to do that, too. No… it was time for her to let go of the third dream she had been holding onto for so many years, and exchange it for the husband and family that she had longed for most of her adult life. Becoming Mrs. Marco Antonio Lopez was so much more important to her than a framed diploma hanging on the wall.

Beverly allowed a single tear to slide down over her cheek as she crumbled the application into a tightly wrinkled ball of paper. She stood up, tossing the paper ball at the wastebasket as she walked out of her office, not realizing that it had merely grazed the rim of the small can, falling haphazardly onto the floor beside her desk. She picked up her clipboard with the needed paperwork on it, ensuring that she had a business card attached to the top. She needed to hurry to Rampart to see the victim Mike had called her about earlier. She told the housemother where she was going, before quickly leaving the facility. If the young victim wasn't ready to leave the sordid life of prostitution, then at least Beverly would be able to give her a card with emergency contact information on it. The card was small enough that it could be easily hidden for later retrieval when the time was right for her to leave the streets. The conversation she had planned to have with Lexi would have to wait for a little longer.

In the backyard of the safe house, Lexi's eyes seemed to brighten up a bit. "Are you serious? You're ready to come live with us? Now?"

Bri nodded her head. "If the offer still stands. Beverly got a call this morning about a victim at Rampart, so I'm hoping she's going to be needing my bed."

"That's wonderful, Bri," she said, enveloping her best friend in a hug. "Mama and I have already gotten your room ready… This is the best news I've heard in a while."

Seeing her opportunity, Bri released her hold on Lexi, pulling back to look at her friend. "I took the call… It was from Mike."

A shadow immediately crossed Lexi's face. "Oh," she said, returning her gaze to her lap. "Um, did he… uh, say anything else?"

Bri leaned back against the slatted back of the wooden swing. "No, but I can tell by the look on your face that something's going on between you two. Am I right?" She allowed the silence between them to linger, a technique she had learned from her time in counseling. When Lexi began to sniffle, she received her answer. "Talk to me, Lex."

"I… I don't know… what to say," she said in a thick voice. "We had a… a disagreement yesterday, and I don't really know why."

"How did it start?" Bri asked, reserving her judgment until she heard the story.

"We were, um, eating lunch and…" She covered her face with both her hands, leaning her elbows on her knees. "Oh, Bri… Mike and Marco, my own brother, have been talking about me and Beverly. Talking about… um, intimate stuff, you know?"

Bri felt her breath hitch. "Wait… Are you saying that you and Mike are… are sleeping together?"

Lexi lifted her face away from her hands and looked over at her friend. "Just once and… Bri, it was so different than… than anything I've ever experienced, but then… then he ruined it all when I found out that he and Marco had been talking about us! I'm…. I'm really furious at them both!"

"Whoa… slow down… what do you mean by 'talking' about you? What'd they say?"

"Making… um… you know," she sniffled, using the back of her hand to dry her cheeks. "Comments about us… Beverly and me… about when we were, um…," she pressed her lips together tightly. She hated the word, but it was exactly what she had been. She felt her chest heaving, fighting the quiver that made her lower lip ripple with her pent-up emotions. "When we were… pr-prostitutes," she cried.

Bri felt a flash of anger, that was quickly snuffed out by reality. Would Marco really do something like that to his sister? Not a chance. The behavior that Lexi was describing didn't sound like anything Mike would do either, at least not the Mike Stoker she knew.

"Specifically… what kinds of comments?"

Lexi pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them protectively. "You don't believe me, do you?" she sniffled.

"Of course, I do; I'm trying to find out exactly what those comments were. Maybe it was just a big misunderstanding. I mean, why would your own brother, the man who looked for you for years, do something so hurtful to you? And why would Mike, the man who nearly lost his job because of our pimp, hurt you? Lexi, it just doesn't make sense."

Lexi shrugged her shoulders, but did not respond. Her friend was right, and she knew it, but she was still confused by the events of yesterday.

Bri was beginning to think that Lexi might have over-reacted which was very understandable in this situation. "And look at all that Mike has done for you; would he have spent all that time trying to reach you… and then save you from our burning apartment… and date you… just to have something to talk about with Marco?"

"I dunno…," the wounded woman mumbled, shrugging her shoulders. "I… dunno."

Bri felt frustrated by Lexi's lack of engagement in the conversation. "Okay, so let me get this straight," she began, trying a different approach. "You're angry at Mike AND Marco because at some point during a conversation between the two of them, the subject of you and Beverly being former prostitutes came up?"

Lexi silently stared at the fence on the other side of the backyard. It sounded so benign when Bri said it.

"Newsflash, Lex… You both WERE!"

"Damn it, I know that!" Lexi argued, jumping up from her seat and leaning against the A-frame of the swing, her back to her friend.

"Then what's the problem?" Bri asked again, rising to her feet, feeling the need to be at eye level with Lexi, if her friend happened to turn around. "It's not like they lied about anything, and you said it was just the two of them, so it's not like they took out a full-page ad in the LA Times, or anything."

"The problem is that… they can't let it go! Don't you see, Bri?" she asked, turning back around to make eye contact with her best friend. "I'll never be anything but a whore to him,"

Bri stepped closer to the weeping woman. "Him?"

"Huh?" Lexi asked, sweeping her fingers beneath her eyes.

"You said – him, but you've been talking about THEM - Mike and Marco." Bri wrapped an arm around her friend's shoulder. "It's not really Marco that has you concerned, is it? It's Mike." Bri could feel Lexi trembling, letting her know just how serious this was for her.

"I'm such a fool, Bri," Lexi cried, leaning her head against her friend's shoulder. "I was… falling in love with… him, but-"

"But nothing…" Bri pulled back to face Lexi, resting her palms on Lexi's shoulders. "First of all, you aren't FALLING in love with him; you have ALREADY fallen in love with him. That's why you're so upset. And secondly… you aren't being fair to Mike."

"WHAT?"

"You heard me… You aren't being fair to him. If he's in love with you, and I believe he is, then of course he's going to talk to Marco about you. You're talking to me about him, aren't you?"

Lexi felt her face redden. "I'm not talking about him in a negative way!"

"Aren't you?" Bri asked. "You've basically written him off as a jerk who just wanted to have sex with you because he thought you'd be an easy lay. I mean, he didn't even have to pay you for it, did he?"

"BRI!"

Bri narrowed her eyes at her friend, a horrible thought crossing her mind. "Wait, wait, wait… Did he expect you to put out because he bought you lunch?"

"NO! It wasn't like that… the lunch was yesterday. We… we, um, had sex the day before."

"Did he force you?"

"NO! God, Bri…," Lexi huffed in exasperation, running an angry hand through her hair. "Michael isn't a rapist! He's… He's…" Why couldn't she put her feelings into words?

Bri felt her heart lighten. If Lexi was defending him, then she definitely loved him, and maybe Bri could help her see the error in her thinking. Realizing she was making progress with her friend, she continued her line of questioning about Mike. "Is he trying to see how many notches he can carve into his bedpost? He's just like all the other johns out there, isn't he?" She asked. "He just wants a quick fuck from you, but nothing more… You and I are just trash to men like him," Bri commented, her old street language returning.

"Michael is NOT like that!" Lexi argued, turning her back to her friend, staring at the ground.

"Then why are you afraid of him?" Bri asked, pushing her friend a little more.

Lexi continued her heavy breathing, fighting to keep from lashing out at her best friend. "Michael isn't… he isn't someone to be afraid of, Bri… He's not like all those others."

"But you ARE afraid of him," Bri repeated. This time it wasn't a question.

"No," Lexi sniffled, still refusing to look at the other woman, but her voice was beginning to calm down. "I'm not afraid of Michael."

"If it isn't Mike, then what ARE you afraid of?" Bri asked softly.

Lexi slowly stepped over to the picnic table – the same one where she had first visited with her son. Taking a seat at the bench nearest her, she rested her elbows on the table, rubbing her throbbing temples. She sighed loudly as she struggled to explain herself. Bri was her best friend, had been with her through the most difficult period of her life. If there was anyone on earth who would understand how she truly felt, it was Bri. "I'm afraid that one day he's going to look at me and… and wonder why he's with someone like me."

"You're afraid that he'll… reject you?"

Lexi looked down at her hands, picking at her cuticles as a breeze gently strummed through her hair, fluttering it against her face. "I guess… I mean… No, not reject… exactly." Lexi couldn't describe what she was feeling. Was she feeling unsure of her relationship with Mike? Even after spending hours in therapy over the last several months, she still couldn't describe her emotions when it came to Mike Stoker.

Bri huffed out loud. "Damn, Lex… You've got one of the nicest, handsomest men I've ever met, who's pining over you and…, and you don't even want him?"

"Arrgh," Lexi growled. "It's not like that!"

"Well, please explain it, alright? 'Cause that's sure how it looks to me."

"Michael is so…" She hesitated for a moment. "He's so perfect. I mean, you're right; he's wonderful. He's handsome… he treats me like a princess and… and he's so comfortable with Antonio. It's like Ant is Michael's own son, you know?"

"You want to know what I think," Bri asked, taking a seat beside her. Not waiting for permission, she continued. "I think that in some way, you feel safer living in the shadow of your past. You've never been in a mutually beneficial relationship with a man – a real loving relationship. Your father died when you were young and that must've felt like he abandoned you. Antonio's father lied to you. He pushed you into prostitution and even sold you to Ricardo. And we both know all the horrible things Ricardo did to you… to both of us."

Lexi silently sniffled. Bri was peeling back the protective layers that Lexi had wrapped around herself over the last five years, leaving her feeling exposed and uncomfortable.

"Lexi… When you and Mike were intimate… It was probably the first time in your life that you had ever WANTED to allow yourself to become vulnerable with a man." Bri placed her flattened palm against her own chest. "I can't even imagine what that must be like… not yet, anyway. However…, I think that you're afraid… afraid that Mike will… hurt you, either emotionally or physically… or maybe both… So you decided to hurt him first."

"No… I didn't do anything to hurt him. He hurt ME!"

"Did he?" Bri asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "It sounds like all he did was talk to Marco and made love to you. It's not like he shared intimate details with all the guys at the station. He talked with the man who's closest to you – your oldest brother – a man who is now engaged to a woman with a very similar past as yours. Someone Mike trusts… and so do you. Now… how's that hurtful to you?"

Again, Lexi shrugged her shoulders, unable to answer the question. Bri was making a lot of sense, even though Lexi didn't want to admit it. Being angry was oddly comforting for her. It was a feeling she knew and understood. She knew how to be a victim, but she really had no idea how to be a strong and confident woman unless she was angry. Maintaining the wall she had built around her heart was easy, and for several years it had been necessary. Giving and receiving love, especially the physically intimate kind of love, was actually terrifying. And how she felt about Mike was unfamiliar and frightening, too.

"How's Mike and Marco's conversation about you any different than what you and I are doing now, Lexi? We're talking about them."

Lexi took a few moments, regaining her voice before she spoke. "He could have anyone he wants, Bri. Why would he want someone like me?"

"That's a question you'll have to ask him. He deserves your honesty and respect, Lexi. At least talk to him. Tell him how you feel… Share your fears with him. See what he has to say."

Lexi fiercely shook her head. "No, no way… I can't."

Bri, not being one to give up so easily, continued making her point. "Girls like you and me… and Beverly… We've got fears that no one can understand unless they've lived our lives." She thought for a minute, searching for the right analogy to use. Her face lit up when she thought of the best way to describe it. "Do you know how frightening it is to run into a burning building when everyone else is running out of it?"

"Of course not," Lexi responded, knowing exactly where Bri was going with the comment. "Only firemen, or maybe policemen, know that, right?"

Bri smiled warmly at her friend. "That's right. I bet Mike understands having fears and experiences that only another fireman could ever know… Does that soundfamiliar?"

"Yea," Lexi replied, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "But what if he says he… he can't deal with my past?"

"First of all, I don't think that will be a problem, but you need to ask him, not me. And if he says he can't deal with it, then you'll know. But don't assume anything. You know what assume means, right?"

"Yea," Lexi rolled her eyes. "It makes an ASS out of U and ME," she snickered, despite her tears.

"Exactly," Bri replied with a grin, nudging her friend with her shoulder.

Lexi inhaled a shuddering breath. "I really messed up, didn't I?"

"No… I think you opened the door to a very honest and heartfelt conversation with him. Now… will you call him?"

Lexi thought about it for a moment. "He's on shift today, and we need to get you packed up and moved into Mama's house," she said, offering a hint of a smile. "Maybe… Maybe I'll call him tomorrow."

"Well, I won't be able to leave until tomorrow. I need to complete the exit interview and get my things together, but… Promise me that you WILL call him tomorrow… Okay?"

"I promise… that I'll try," Lexi commented, not wanting to lie to her best friend by promising to do something that she had no idea if she could muster up the courage for. "And I'm going to see if Marco will pick you up on his way home from shift in the morning."

"I'll agree to that," Bri laughed, hugging her friend… And in her heart, she hoped that one day she might find someone to love her, too.

E!

At Station 51, the smell of Mexican food permeated the building. While Marco finished preparing lunch, Johnny, his parents, and the rest of the 51 crew sat around the kitchen table listening to the junior medic recount all that had happened during his trip to Selma.

"You seem so calm, John. That had to have been terrifying," Hank said, knowing that his younger paramedic was strong and brave during a crisis, but the emotions often caught up with him, after the fact. He glanced around the table, realizing that this seemed more like a debriefing after a difficult run, than just a few friends catching up on their weekend activities. He smiled inwardly, proud of all his crew members. Families take care of each other, and Station 51 A-shift was definitely a family. He knew that the conversation was cathartic for John, and so, for the next half hour, he continued to encourage his youngest man to discuss the events surrounding the deposition.

After lunch was eaten, the group continued their friendly chatter.

"Marco," Sharon Gage began, placing her napkin on top of her empty lunch plate. "Those were the best enchiladas I've ever eaten."

"Thank you, Ma'am," the senior lineman said, his tanned face blushing slightly.

"Oh man, you ought to taste Mama Lopez' cooking, if you think this was good," Chet announced, hoping to score a few brownie points after his morning debacle with their guests.

"Mama Lopez?" Sharon asked, confused by the lineman she knew was Irish.

"She's my mother," Marco said proudly. "She taught me everything I know about cooking… and, all the fellas call her Mama Lopez because she likes to take care of us."

"Oh, yea, she's always sending food to us," Johnny added.

"Well then, maybe you men would like for me to cook a meal for you sometime, and then I could be Mama Gage," she suggested with a twinkle in her eye.

Johnny leaned forward, making eye contact with all the men around the table. "Y'all are gonna really enjoy my Mom's cookin'," he boasted.

"Will you be here for our next shift?" Hank asked Sharon, cutting his eyes at his junior medic.

"Aww, c'mon, Cap… You mean you don't want me to cook more hotdogs?" Johnny joked.

"No, John… I really do NOT want any more of your hotdogs, especially if your mother is going to be in the area and willing to cook for us," the fire captain added with a grin.

"More than happy to," Sharon piped up, excitedly.

"She hasn't been able to cook for Johnny for a while now, so she has a lot of catching up to do," Roddy said with a wide smile.

"Far out," Chet stated, running his fingers over his mustache. "Say, Gage," he began, but was quickly interrupted by his captain.

"Um, Kelly, don't you have a few dishes to wash?" Hank asked, fearing that the Phantom was lurking about.

Chet, quickly silenced by his superior, stood up and began collecting the dishes from the table while the others continued to talk. After setting the plates in the sink, he reached for the coffee pot. "Would you like some coffee, Ma'am?" Chet asked, obviously still trying to make up for his earlier lack of judgment that resulted in her being doused with cold water.

"No, thank you, Chester."

"Mr. Gage?" the lineman asked, raising the coffee pot.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you."

"I'd like some," Johnny piped up, snickering when Chet discreetly lifted his middle finger, flipping Johnny off as the lineman reached for a mug in the dish drain.

Johnny looked around at the faces of his friends, happy about the way they all seemed to be enjoying talking to his parents. The relief he felt by having the deposition completed was nothing compared to the joy he was experiencing in the presence of his parents. He could tell that they were proud of him, and hearing his friends sharing stories with them about Johnny's bravery and his moments of sheer klutziness, warmed his heart. He loved the fire department, and he loved his station brothers. He also loved Lily, and found himself thinking about her often. He was beginning to think that she might be the one woman he would like to settle down with and maybe even raise a family.

E!

In her grandparents' living room, Lily watched as the clock slowly ticked away the time. Long-distance calling rates were much cheaper after eight o'clock at night, so she was waiting until then to call Johnny. She knew that he and his parents were staying at her mother's empty house in Los Angeles because it had more room than Johnny's small apartment. So much had happened since she last saw him, even though it had only been a couple of days. She couldn't wait to share it with him.

"Lily?" Colleen Jones tiptoed into the quiet living room, unsure if her presence would be welcome.

"Hi," Lily offered through her misty-eyed smile, closing the photo album she had been searching through in the stillness of the Alabama twilight. She still hadn't decided what to call her maternal grandparents so she didn't refer to the older woman with any term of endearment.

"I was jus' wonderin' if you were okay 'cause you didn't eat much supper," the older woman stated, more than asked.

Lily offered a half-hearted smile. "I wasn't very hungry after eating such a big lunch."

"Well, I guess I did kind o' go overboard with my cookin'," Colleen admitted. "It's jus' been so long since I've had the chance to cook for…," she lowered her head, not wanting to say anything to upset her granddaughter. Their conversations had become more civil since meeting at the hospital on Friday, but there was still quite a bit of tension between them. "Well… It's all my fault that I haven't had the opportunity…" She cleared her throat, feeling the emotions knotting up in her esophagus. I see that you're lookin' at pictures of your momma when she was jus' a girl," Colleen commented, nodding her head in the direction of the old family photo album resting in Lily's lap.

"Yes," Lily said with a grin, opening the large album. "I was wonderin' who some of these people are," she added, sliding her finger down the page, momentarily allowing it to rest near the faces she couldn't identify.

"Yes…," Colleen said, taking a seat beside her granddaughter and looking at the black and white photographs. "This chubby little cherub is your momma and the lady holdin' her is my mother… your great grandmother…"

Minutes turned into hours as the two women shared stories from the past. Colleen told about Iris' antics as a child, and Lily filled in the missing details about the last twenty years. When the ornate grandfather clock began to chime, Lily looked up at the antique time piece.

"Oh my, I didn't realize it was so late," Lily gasped, seeing that it was eleven o'clock.

Colleen stifled a grin. "I believe it's only nine o'clock in Los Angeles."

Lily felt herself blushing; although they had only known each other for a few days, her grandmother understood her heart and her fondness for John Gage… Or was it more than just fondness? "True."

"Why don't you give that beau of yours a call. You can use the telephone in the kitchen; there's more privacy in there," Colleen said with a knowing grin. She leaned over closer to Lily and whispered. "And I'll pay for the call. Just keep it under half an hour, okay?"

Lily's face beamed; her grandmother was giving her a gift and she appreciated the gesture. "Thank you," she replied, leaning in as her grandmother reached for her.

The embrace, although not as warm as that of her grandmother Kizzy, no longer felt cold and prickly. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of the older woman's kiss along her forehead. "Goodnight, Lily. I…," Colleen hesitated, unsure of how her remark would be received, but finding the courage to move forward anyway. "I love you, dear."

Lily gulped past the lump in her throat. She couldn't say those words yet, not to this woman, but her heart was beginning to warm up to the idea. "Goodnight, um… What should I call you?"

Colleen stood in the open doorway. "Anything you feel comfortable with, sweetheart."

Lily watched as the older woman turned to leave. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Sleep well," Colleen called over her shoulder, heading for the stairs. She didn't want her granddaughter to see her red-rimmed eyes. It was progress. Maybe the progress was small, but it was still progress and for that, she was grateful.

E!

Johnny looked at the clock on the wall in the Campbell kitchen. It was after eleven at night back in Alabama. Using the excuse of jet lag, he had insisted that his parents retire early and that he would clean up the kitchen. His mother seemed to have understood what he was doing – ushering them to bed so that he could have a private conversation with Lily. But the call he had been anticipating still hadn't come, and he was growing worried. Surely she was already in bed at this time of night. Had she forgotten about her promise to call him?

He replaced the dish towel on the rack and then poured himself a glass of milk. Sitting down in the kitchen chair alone, he stared at the table where he and the Campbell ladies had enjoyed so many meals together. Tonight, he had shared the table with his own parents, and somewhere deep inside his heart, he thought about how wonderful it would be to share a meal with his parents AND Lily and Iris – just like family.

His knee began to bounce anxiously as he lifted the glass to his mouth. The shrill ringing of the telephone made him jump, nearly spilling the milk down the front of his shirt.

"Augh…, Campbell residence," he spat out, expecting to hear the professional voice of the operator on the other end of the line, asking him to accept the collect call. Instead, he was greeted by the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

"Hey, Johnny."

"Lily! Hi, baby, I was gettin' worried," he responded.

"I'm sorry, um… Mrs. Jones and I were looking through some old photo albums of my mom when she was a child," she commented, still feeling awkward about the formal use of her maternal grandmother's name, but unsure of referencing her in any other way.

For the next thirty minutes, Lily poured her heart out to the man she loved. So much had happened since she had last seen him. She talked about how well her grandfather was resting and how her mother was spending a lot of time alone with him. They seemed to be making up for the years that had separated them. He was seeing his cardiologist on Tuesday and they were hoping that he had just experienced severe stress. She didn't want to think about what might happen to her mother if he died so soon after being reunited with her. Lily went on to talk about the history of the antebellum home that was the Jones residence. It was less than two miles from the Alabama River and had once been a thriving cotton plantation. They talked about all the people who had lived in it since it had been built, and Lily even shared her thoughts about probably being the first black person who had ever spent the night there as a guest.

"I know it's none of my business, but…" Johnny wanted to ask if the Joneses had explained their negligent behavior over the last two decades, but he wasn't sure how to say what was on his mind.

Lily knew immediately what he was thinking. They had seemed to be able to communicate without words since they had first met. "I know what you're thinking, Johnny, and I think it IS your business. They've talked about being afraid of the KKK, afraid that if they maintained contact with us, then the KKK would track us down. That group doesn't approve of, um, people with mixed ancestry like me, but…, they REALLY don't like white women who choose to be with black men…"

Johnny could hear the pain in her voice, and he wished he could be there with her. "Like your mom?"

"Yea," she managed to say, her voice a raspy whisper. "The Klan has done really horrible things to them and…"

"Are the Joneses trying to say that the reason they turned their backs on you and your parents was to keep y'all safe?" he asked in disbelief. He heard her exhale loudly on the other end of the line, and he immediately regretted his harsh tone. "I'm sorry, baby."

"No… It's okay… Believe me, the same thoughts have been going through my mind, too, but… I don't know… They just seem… nice."

"Nice? They let the KKK keep them away from you, and you call them nice?" Johnny's protectiveness of Lily was beginning to surface. He had wanted her to get to know her maternal family, but he still felt a great deal of anger at the elderly couple for their past behavior.

"Johnny, please… They aren't the only ones who let the Klan separate them from their family."

Johnny felt his nostrils flare. She was right. He had done the same thing. Was it possible that the Joneses were as fearful of the dreaded organization as he had been? "Touche," he softly whispered into the phone.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you," she responded.

"I know… but sometimes the truth hurts, ya know?"

"We've all been hurt enough, Johnny. I only have a few more minutes, so let's talk about something else." She thought for a minute. "I really wish you could see the inside of this house. It's like a museum."

Johnny listened intently, enjoying the melodic sound of her voice as she went on to describe the antique furnishings inside the two story home. She seemed to be in a happier mindset than when they had last spoken, although she obviously had not completely made peace with her mother's family – perhaps she never would.

"Man, if those walls could talk…," he muttered, not finishing his thought.

"Yes… They've witnessed everything from civil war to civil rights, and they're still standing just as tall and strong as ever," she stated.

"Just like you, Lil'," he mused. "I think about all you've been through and I'm amazed at how strong you are."

"Aww," she blushed, grateful that he couldn't see her reddening face. "You're the heroic fireman; I'm just a florist."

"No… You're a wonderful woman who has beaten the odds in so many ways. You've overcome the death of your father at an early age. You've overcome dyslexia and joining a cult. You even helped bring down that lying, criminal-minded cult leader. You tower over those people who look at people like us and think that we're not as good as either parent because we're a mixture of two races."

"We've both overcome that," Lily jumped in.

"So we have…"

Silence filled the phone line for a couple of moments.

"I miss you, Lily," Johnny whispered into the phone. "When will you be back?"

Lily bit the inside of her cheek. She had been dreading this part of the conversation, but she knew he deserved to know the truth. "Um… It'll be a few weeks."

"Weeks?" he asked, confused.

"Yes… Um, my grandfather is going to his cardiologist on Tuesday and even if everything checks out fine, mom wants to stay for a little while. There's so many things that they… we… need to work through and… Well, mom is afraid that if she leaves, even though she wants to come back during Christmas, she's afraid that something will happen to them… my grandparents, I mean. They are getting older."

"She's afraid that they'll die without her having a chance to tell them what she wants to say," Johnny commented, having an idea of what that was like. He had really enjoyed reconnecting with his own parents, even though the circumstances were nothing like those that separated the Campbells from the Joneses.

"I think so… Will you be mad at me if I stay here with her? I think she needs me," Lily said, knowing that wasn't the entire truth. Honestly, she needed to spend more time with her maternal grandparents, just to see if there might be a place for them in her life.

Johnny stared at his hand resting on the kitchen table. He felt the backs of his eyes beginning to sting. It seemed as if he could never be completely happy. He was overjoyed that he had reunited with his parents, but that happiness was being tempered by the news that Lily would be staying in Alabama for a few weeks. It seemed like so many people had it all… why couldn't he share in that good fortune just once in his life? Why couldn't he have his parents around, a loving girlfriend close by, and the job he loved? Why did it always seem that he had to give up at least one of those things in order to have the others? When his career was going well, his parents and Lily were not around. When he was with Lily at the Holistic Unity Gardens, he didn't have his job, his friends, or his parents. Now he had his parents in town and the job he loved, but Lily was on the other side of the country.

Johnny bit his lower lip, forcing the words out that he didn't want to say. "Yea… Sure… I know she needs you and, uh… You might enjoy gettin' to know your grandparents better. If not, I'm sure Kizzy would love to spend more time with you."

"And," Lily began, fighting back the tears that were threatening. He seemed unfazed by her plans. Didn't he want to be with her anymore? "I'm sure your parents will enjoy spending more time with you, too."

"Um, ye-ahem, yea."

Lily, keeping a close watch on the time, realized that she needed to end the phone call. She wished they could end it on a more positive note. "Um, I'll call you again… soon."

"Uh… 'kay… My folks will be leavin' on Thursday, so I'll be back at my apartment then. I'll keep a check on things here for y'all though," he quickly added.

"Thanks, Johnny… I'll let mom know. I'm sure she'll… appreciate it," Lily said, trying hard not to let him hear her sniffle. She was missing him more than she had anticipated.

"Well, um, y'all en-enjoy your visit…," he said, allowing the silence to linger between them. "I love you, Lily."

Lily whispered her own goodbye. "I love you, too," she replied, feeling a mixture of confusing emotions as she hung up the phone.

He stood up, quietly scooting the chair back underneath the table and turned off the lights. His feet felt like lead as he trudged down the hallway to the room he had occupied as a teenager. The place where, when his heartache over being separated from his parents had overwhelmed him, he had found comfort in the arms of Lily. Now he was a grown man curling up under those same covers, in that same bed, longing for the woman he loved. Fear crept into his heart and insecurity slithered across his soul as one thought permeated his mind – what if Lily and Iris decided not to return to Los Angeles?

E!

Mike lay awake in bed, tossing and turning, concerned that he might awaken his shiftmates. Deciding that a glass of milk might help him relax, he chose to leave his coworkers to slumber in peace. Marco heard the squeaking sounds of the bunk closest to the dorm door as the engineer slipped out of bed, pulling on his turnouts and boots as quietly as possible before exiting the sleeping quarters. Seeing his opportunity to speak privately to his friend, Marco quietly slipped from the room, following the taller man into the kitchen.

"Mike?"

Bloodshot blue eyes looked up from behind the open refrigerator door. "I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You okay?" the lineman asked.

Mike returned his attention to the shelf on the refrigerator where the small cartons of milk were kept, pulling a couple of the pink boxes out and tossing one to his friend. "Yea… Just… Just having a little trouble getting back to sleep after that last run."

"Mmhm," Marco grunted, taking his seat at the table and gulping a large drink of the milk. He lowered the carton, using the back of his hand to remove the thin white line of moisture that rested on the edge of his dark mustache. "Only a few more hours… Maybe you can grab some zzz's when you get home."

Mike finished his drink, leaning back in his chair and tossing the empty carton in the trash. The Johnny-like gesture made Marco snicker.

"I hope so," the engineer replied. He was about to tell Marco about his quick turnaround, filling in for the C-shift engineer before their next shift, but the klaxons blared, cutting him off.

"Squad 51… respond in place of Squad 69 to…"

Mike and Marco, both having jumped from their seats, sank back down when they realized the call was for the medics only. Mike listened for their captain to acknowledge the call while the familiar sound of boots and turnouts shuffled towards the squad. As the bay door opened, the two men in the kitchen heard the doors of the squad slamming shut as the truck rumbled to life, screaming into the night, warning drivers to give them the right of way.

Marco looked over at his engineer, seeing the worried look on his face. "Mind if I ask you a question?"

"Shoot," Mike replied, strumming his fingers on the top of the table.

"Is everything okay between you and Lexi?"

Mike's fingers came to a sudden halt and his worried eyes darted over at the lineman. "No… No, it isn't."

Marco felt his chest tighten. Mike's words were confirmation of what Marco had feared. He sighed, propping his elbows on the table and cradling his chin. "Can I help?"

Mike's voice remained flat, his face devoid of emotion. He had to choose his words carefully so as not to offend Marco – after all, Lexi was his baby sister. "Sure… Can you tell me what the hell I did wrong? Everything was fine one minute, and the next, she was chewing my ass out." He ran a hand through his brown hair, leaving it slightly disheveled. "I don't even know what I did."

Marco was almost afraid to ask the most obvious question, but he did it anyway. "Did you ask her?"

Mike huffed out his breath, scrubbing his face with his hands. "Of course I did, but… all she would say was… nothing."

"She didn't say anything at all?" Marco asked, confused.

"No," he responded a little too harshly. Sitting up straighter in his chair, he leaned forward. "I asked her what I had done and she said 'nothing.' So I suggested that we go back to my apartment and talk about it and she said she wanted to go home."

"This was after I left you two at the restaurant?" Marco queried. "She seemed fine when I left."

Mike slapped his hands on the table in frustration. "Don't you think I KNOW that? We were just talking about that conversation you and I had about how we wanted to make sure that Lexi and Beverly knew that we weren't using them because they had been mistreated in the past. She blew up at me," he said, searching his lineman's concerned face for answers. "Hell, she's probably mad at you, too."

"She isn't mad at me. I mean, she called me earlier and asked me to stop by the Wellhouse to pick up Bri on my way home in the morning. Bri's moving into Mama's house."

Mike arched an eyebrow at Marco. "That's good for Bri… Probably good for both of them. I'm glad she's made enough progress to be released back into the real world. Maybe that means that the victim from my first run is going to be moving into the Wellhouse."

"I guess; I haven't talked to Beverly. She works the nightshift at the shelter when I'm at the station." He briefly studied the half empty milk carton he still held in his hand. "Guess I'll find out in the morning."

"I would've helped Bri move… If Lexi would've asked me…" Mike's already somber face darkened even more. "Guess I know when I'm not needed," he mumbled, pushing away from the table.

"Mike, I'm sure it's not like that."

Mike turned sideways, staring back at Marco. His eyes held a hopelessness that Marco hadn't seen before. "The hell it isn't," he muttered, turning back around and pushing his way through the kitchen door. Since he and Lexi had become intimate, he had been trying so hard to make sure that she didn't feel used by him, but now it was Mike who was feeling used, and deep inside his heart, the normally quiet and considerate man was beginning to resent it.

Marco pushed away from the table and stood up. "Hey, wait, Mike… I have an idea…" 


	4. Chapter 4

AN: I want to thank all the guest reviewers for reading and taking the time to share your thoughts with me. This is my only way to thank you - 😊

Chapter 4

The following morning, Lexi fluffed up the pillows in the upstairs guest room that Bri would soon occupy, while the comforting smells of Maria's breakfast burritos wafted up the stairs. She could hear her mother humming in the kitchen along with the precious sounds of Antonio's playful chatter as he talked to the imaginary occupants of his Hot Wheels cars he was playing with on the living room rug. The young mother stood at the doorway to the guest room, one hand propped on her hip as she surveyed the neat and tidy space. Satisfied that the accommodations were just right, she allowed her eyes to drift to the ticking clock on the bedside table. Assuming that the A-shift from Station 51 was able to leave on time, Marco should be arriving at the Wellhouse any minute to pick up Bri. Lexi couldn't wait to welcome her best friend into the Lopez family home, where a hot breakfast would be waiting. And if Marco was picking up Bri, then Mike should be entering his apartment right about now.

Lexi exhaled a nervous breath. She had promised Bri that she would at least try to talk to Mike before Bri arrived at the Lopez residence. Now, she was running out of time to keep her word. She slowly closed the bedroom door, then walked to the end of the hallway where a black rotary dial telephone sat perched atop a white doily on a small telephone table. What would she say to him? How could she explain her behavior? And even if she did manage to help him understand, what would be his reaction to her outburst at the restaurant that day?

Lexi listened to the telephone ringing on the other end of the line, concerned by the lack of a response at Mike's apartment for the last ten minutes. Were the guys at the station caught on a run? Would Marco be late picking up Bri? Using her index finger to terminate the call, she waited for a moment to get a dial tone before dialing the number for the Wellhouse.

"Hello? Wellhouse," came the familiar housemother's voice.

"Hi, this is Lexi Lopez, may I speak to Bri please?"

"Sure," came the response followed by a muffled calling of Bri's name. The housemother identified the caller before passing the telephone to the soon-to-be-former resident.

"Hey, Lex… Is everything okay?" Bri asked.

"Um, yes… I just wanted you to know that I think the guys are out on a run. I've been trying to call Mike… like I said I would, and… he isn't answering. So… Marco might be late picking you up."

Bri tightened her jaw muscles as she considered how to respond. "Okay… That's not a problem. I'll be ready whenever he gets here," she said, quickly ending the call before she said too much.

After hanging up the telephone, Bri turned around to look at the two firemen standing in the living room of the safe house, picking up the two bags containing her meager worldly possessions. "She thinks you two are out on a run," Bri commented. "She's been trying to call you, Mike."

"Not very hard," Mike grumbled, thinking of Lexi's phone call with Marco the previous night. If she had really wanted to talk to him, why didn't she ask for him then? The grimacing engineer pulled Bri's backpack onto one shoulder, then reached for the larger tote bag that Marco had lifted. "I'll take it," he said, grabbing the faux leather handles on the yellow bag.

Bri turned to Marco. "Beverly should be back any minute. She just needed to run a quick errand now that her replacement is here.

"Thanks," he said, turning towards the counselor's office. "I'll just wait in here," he said, closing the door behind him. He and Mike had both been cleared as volunteers at the safe house which allowed them to remain on the premises longer than other guests – as long as they were never alone with one of the residents.

Marco looked around the room, noting the pictures of dozens of young women, all of whom were smiling. Seeing the happiness on their faces, he couldn't imagine what they must have looked like when they had first arrived at the Wellhouse. He saw the bright face of his sister, her face practically glowing as she held her son on her lap. He remembered that the picture had been taken the day that he had picked her up from this house of refuge, to carry her back to her childhood home, praying that she would be able to resume her life and eventually find happiness. He saw a blank spot beside Lexi's picture, presumably where Bri's exit photo would be placed – another in a long line of success stories for Beverly and the Wellhouse.

Marco felt as if his heart would burst with pride. He couldn't believe that the incredible woman who had survived being a sex slave, having her throat cut, left to bleed to death in a dark ally, and who had eventually used all the negative events in her life to help save the lives of countless others… this amazing woman loved him enough to marry him. She had agreed to be his life partner, and he wanted to jump for joy at the thought.

Turning to continue perusing the pictures on the wall, he heard a crunching noise beneath his right foot. He looked at the floor, seeing a crumpled piece of paper that had obviously narrowly missed the wastebasket and had come to rest just out of sight at the edge of the desk chair. Reaching down, he picked it up and was about to drop it into the trash when the word 'application' caught his eye. Slowly, he peeled open the rumpled paper, his heart catching in his throat when he recognized the handwriting. "What the…," he began, but his eyes closed in anguish when he read the entire form. "No… Oh baby, no…"

Hearing his beloved's voice as she approached from the front room, he quickly folded up the wrinkled paper and slipped it into his shirt pocket just as the office door opened.

"The housemother told me that Mike took Bri home," Beverly said, waltzing up to him, flirtatiously. "I'm glad you waited for me."

Recovering quickly from the shock of the discarded graduate school application he had found, he cleared his throat. "Ahem… Thought I might interest you in a little breakfast."

With a throaty whisper, Beverly leaned towards him, seductively. "There's a lot you could interest me in, Mr. Lopez."

Dark eyes quickly surveyed the closed door, ensuring their privacy, before his hot mouth enveloped her rosy lips, his hands running down her back and cupping her buttocks. A soft moan was heard as the kiss deepened. When their lips finally parted, both of them were breathless.

"Come home with me, please?" Marco pleaded, his eyes hooded with desire.

"Thought you were hungry?" she teased in response.

"I am… and I want some breakfast, too," he said with a wicked grin.

"Well, I'm famished, so let's eat first and then… we'll satisfy our other cravings," she giggled, stepping away from him and heading for the door.

"Mmmhmm… and afterwards… we have some things to talk about," he said, closing the office door behind him.

"Such as?" Beverly asked, heading out the front door and straight to her car.

"Lexi and Mike, for starters… And… about OUR future," Marco replied, knowing that wedding plans were not the only future planning the two of them needed to discuss.

E!

As Mike's truck bounced along the freeway, he and Bri fell into a comfortable conversation. He liked Bri and her no-nonsense attitude. It was something he found rare in most women.

"You know, talking to you is like talking to another man," he offered, meaning it as a compliment and not the insult it sounded like.

"Well… I can honestly say that I've never been told that before," Bri laughed.

Mike felt his face heating up. "I just mean that you're straightforward, direct… You don't beat around the bush like most women. You say exactly what you mean… no games… I like that," he said, glancing into his mirrors before changing lanes.

"Unlike Lexi?"

Mike pressed his lips together tightly. He flipped on his blinker as he took the exit ramp. "Yea…"

"Mike, she's gonna be there when you drop me off and you need to be ready to talk to her… So… what happened between the two of you?"

The engineer shrugged his shoulders, his blue eyes never leaving the road. "I don't know… One minute we were talking and the next… she was goin' ape on me."

Bri propped her elbow on her bags that had been placed in the seat between them. "She said that you and Marco have been talking about her and Beverly."

"So?"

Bri exhaled. "So… What were you two saying about them?"

Mike eased to a stop at the red light. He cut his eyes over at his passenger, then returned them to the road. "Okay… maybe you can be TOO straightforward."

"Alright… if you don't want to answer that one, then will you tell me the truth about something else?"

"Maybe," he replied, releasing the clutch as he slowly pulled forward when the light turned green.

"Do you love her?"

Feeling unsure if he should respond honestly, Mike took a few moments to shift through the gears as he brought his truck back up to speed. "Thought I did… maybe I was wrong."

"What changed?"

Mike released an exasperated huff. He had anticipated a few questions from Bri - he even had a few of his own to ask her about Lexi, but he wasn't prepared for this line of questioning. He turned into the nearest parking lot, causing Bri to grab the door handle as she bounced in the seat. "Why the third degree, huh?" he asked, pulling to a stop in a vacant part of the lot. "Why don't you ask your friend these questions, instead of me?" He slapped his hand against the steering wheel, forcing his breathing to calm. "I'm sorry, Bri… You want to know what changed? Well, I'll tell you. She did!"

"She loves you… She just doesn't know how to give and receive love. Ricardo… the streets… the johns… the beatings and rapes… giving up Antonio when he was a newborn, and she was just a kid herself… it took her ability to give and receive love away from her. She's got to find it again."

"I was giving her love, Bri. God knows, I was trying so hard to tell her and show her, but…" His voice faded. Could he be honest with Bri? Would Lexi's best friend somehow be able to help them? "You've talked to her about all this, haven't you?"

"Yes… We talked for a long time yesterday. She's confused, Mike."

The engineer leaned his head back, staring at the gray interior above his head. "Well, I'm not exactly clear on what happened between us, either."

"She told me about the two of you having sex, and…"

"Well, damnation! Why doesn't she just announce it on the radio?" Mike stated with sarcasm. He paused for a moment, again trying to settle down before he continued.

Bri leaned closer to the passenger's side door, unsure of how much more of an outburst the normally quiet man might exhibit. "I'm going to try not to take that as an insult to me."

"Sorry," he muttered, frustrated at both himself and the entire situation. "What Lexi and I shared that day was… it was personal. At least, I thought it was personal. I'm just not used to people knowing about my sex life."

"Ha," she scoffed. "Imagine how Lexi and I feel!"

Angry blue eyes began to soften a bit. Why hadn't he ever thought of that? "I apologize… Go ahead… I know you're trying to help and… I… I appreciate it."

"Like I was saying," Bri continued. "Lexi is confused about giving and receiving love."

Mike allowed his right hand to shift into gear again. "That's just it," he said, pulling out into traffic to continue the drive to the Lopez home. "I've been doing a lot more giving than receiving and," he held up his hand to halt her next comment. "And I'm not talking about sex, either. I'm talking about the normal give and take in a relationship. I've been doing all the giving, and I was okay with that because I knew it was going to take her awhile to get used to the real world, but… Damn it… When we… made love, it was… I thought it was progress, you know? I honestly thought that she… she was beginning to love me back… I felt like she was giving me something back in the relationship. It's like drawing water out of a well. The well has to be refilled at times, or else it eventually goes dry… it has nothing left to give. And I felt like my…." He gulped, struggling to find the right words to say, his eyes reddening. "Like my feelings finally mattered in our relationship… Like what I needed was becoming important to her. Again… I'm not talking about physical needs, but… emotional needs," he said, fighting to maintain his composure. Sitting here talking to a woman about his relationship issues was really beginning to demasculinize him. He thought about spending the afternoon lifting weights and drinking beer, hoping that would replenish what felt like his quickly shrinking testosterone level. "But… instead… it all blew up. It's like… like what I give her is never enough. It's like I'm…" Dare he say it?

"Just another customer?"

Mike's blue eyes widened in shock. "How'd… you know?" he asked, narrowing his gaze at her.

Bri shifted in her seat. This conversation had gotten much more intimate than she had anticipated, but she wanted to see her friend happy. And truthfully, she really liked Mike Stoker, too. She knew that there was no one on earth who would treat Lexi as well as Mike had been treating her, and she simply couldn't stand by and watch Lexi destroy her chance at a normal life… The kind of life that Bri could only dream of. "When you've spent as much time on the streets as I have, you learn to read people pretty quickly. It's what keeps you alive. You'd be surprised how many men pay for companionship… WITHOUT sex," she added.

"What?"

"A lot of men just don't seem to get what they need at home from their wife or girlfriend. Some of my regular johns used to just…," she hesitated, thinking about all the times she had spent with so many different men. "All they wanted was for somebody to listen to them, hold them, that kind of thing. They were getting sex at home, but then she'd just roll over, or get up and walk away like she had completed her weekly wifely duty. I think a lot of men need more than that," she looked over at Mike, seeing the intense look on his face, and she surmised that he was one of those men. "They need to be… touched, caressed…"

"Men need to feel loved, too," he added, coughing into his closed fist. The conversation had become too intimate for his liking. "Ahem," he said, clearing his throat to dislodge the lump that was forming there. How was it possible that Bri understood him so well, yet Lexi didn't? And why was he able to share his deepest concerns with Bri, when he couldn't even voice them to the woman with whom he had had an intense and fulfilling sexual experience?

"When we get to Ms. Lopez' house, you ARE going to talk to Lexi about all this, right? You're going to tell her how you feel? What you need?" Bri asked, aware that they were quickly approaching the Lopez neighborhood. "Are you going to give her another chance, Mike?"

He cut his eyes over at his passenger, his azure orbs filled with uncertainty. "I'll see what she has to say, Bri. I mean, I really need to hear it in her own words about what went wrong, but… Truthfully…" He hesitated, sighing out loud. "I just don't know."

E!

Lexi sat down at the kitchen table with her mother and son, said a silent prayer, and began eating breakfast.

"So, Antonio… Halloween is coming up soon. What do you want to dress up as for trick-or-treating?"

"I wanna be the Long Ranger," he said, with a serious look on his face, completely unaware of his verbal mistake.

Lexi snickered, covering her mouth with her napkin. "Um… Ahem… I think you mean the Lone Ranger."

"Yea, that's what I said… the Long Ranger," the child repeated. "Yo-Yo, Sliver… AWAY!" he called out.

Both women were laughing so hard they were crying. For Lexi, the tension-relieving activity felt refreshing. The three of them continued eating amid the belly-heaving laughs while Antonio rambled incessantly about his wild west hero. None of them heard the pick-up truck entering the drive-way.

Outside the Lopez residence, Mike and Bri exited the vehicle. Bri reached for her bags, but Mike, ever the gentleman, carefully took them away from her.

"I'll get these," he said to her, his eyes looking at her intently with a clearness that hadn't been there a few minutes ago.

"Thank you," Bri said with a warm smile. "I'm not used to this kind of treatment."

The tall engineer stepped in front of the vehicle, following her up the walkway. "I believe that a lady should be treated with respect," he mumbled, his empty stomach tightening around the butterflies that seemed to have suddenly developed there as he approached the Lopez front door. He wondered how Lexi would react to seeing him. Bri slowed her strides, allowing Mike to step ahead of her. He shouldered the backpack and used his free hand to knock on the front door.

Maria knitted her eyebrows together in confusion. "Why on earth is Marco knocking? He grew up here," she muttered.

"I'll get it," Lexi said, jumping up from her seat and bounding towards the front door.

"Meeko!" Antonio called out, following her through the living room, galloping as though he were riding an invisible horse.

Lexi opened the door, expecting to see her favorite brother and her best friend. Instead, the most beautiful pair of blue eyes stared back at her. "Oh… um…"

Bri, sensing the uneasiness, stepped over the threshold first, offering Lexi a hug.

"So glad you're finally here," Lexi commented, still embracing her best friend. She dared a quick glance at Mike, briefly locking eyes, but didn't speak.

"Nice to see you, too, Lexi," Mike said, a bit too quickly as he followed Bri inside.

"MISTER MIKE!" shouted the precocious little boy, who pretended to dismount his horse, and then scurry towards his grown-up friend, hand poised at his side as if ready to draw his imaginary revolver.

Mike set the two bags on the floor, quickly catching on to what the little boy was doing. Focusing his attention on Antonio gave him a reason not to look at Lexi, and so, he continued with the improvisation the child had obviously started. "Well, howdy, partner," he greeted, picking the child up. "Are you the new sheriff in town?"

"Nope… I'm the Long Ranger!"

Bri chuckled, amazed at how Mike kept his face so serious in spite of the little boy's humorous mistake. As the two continued their child-like conversation, Bri nudged her friend, mouthing her encouragement to her. 'Talk to him.'

"What happened to Marco?" Lexi asked, feeling conflicted about talking to Mike. She had planned on a telephone conversation today, but she hadn't counted on a face-to-face meeting.

"He's with Beverly so Mike offered to bring me instead," Bri explained, darting her eyes at the engineer, silently encouraging him to pick up the conversation from there.

Maria's high-pitched voice rang out from the kitchen, her plump body waddling into the living room. "Welcome home, Bri… Breakfast is ready fo… Oh, Mike… What a pleasant surprise."

"Hello, Ms. Lopez," he acknowledged, knowing she was as surprised to see him as Lexi had been. He had wondered what kind of a greeting he would receive from the older Lopez woman, but soon found himself engulfed in a warm embrace. "It's so good to see you. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, he is," Bri snickered. "His stomach has been growling since he picked me up."

"Good, breakfast is ready. Now come along," she said, returning to the kitchen.

"Mama, I'm gonna show Bri her room first. Mike can go ahead and eat though; I'm sure he's in a hurry to get home after shift."

Mike saw the exasperated look on Bri's face when she bent down to retrieve her bags. Unsure of what to do, he headed for the kitchen, lifting the child onto his strong back and pretending to gallop away with him.

"Yo-yo, Sliver, AWAY!" Antonio shouted, happy to have his friend back, but sensing some tension between his friend and his mom.

Mike gave the youngster a whimsical smile. "I think it might be… 'Hi-Ho, Silver, away,'" he suggested.

"Yea, that's what I said," Antonio replied, wiggling free from Mike's grasp and returning to his partially eaten food at the kitchen table.

"There's coffee over there," Maria said, pointing to the coffee pot on the stove while she prepared her surprise guest a plate of breakfast burritos. "I thought Marco was bringing Bri over."

Mike poured himself a cup of coffee, making himself at home in the familiar kitchen. He leaned his hips against the counter, blowing a cooling breath over the steaming mug. "He and Bri thought this might give me a chance to talk to Lexi. Maybe find out what I did wrong."

Maria placed the plate on the kitchen table beside Antonio, knowing the little boy would want Mike to sit beside him. "I knew something was going on, but… she wouldn't talk to me," Maria replied, refreshing her own cup of coffee. "Juice?"

Mike shook his head in response to the half-raised pitcher of orange juice. "No, thanks."

"As soon as you finish your breakfast, feel free to go sit on the front porch. There's more privacy there," she commented, dipping her head in the direction of her grandson. "Someone has to clean up the mess he made in the living room, right Antonio?"

"But I wanna play with Mister Mike," the child pleaded. "He's my Sliver!"

"Well, maybe 'Sliver' would like to spend some time talking to your Momma, young man. Now, do as you're told."

"Yes… ma'am," the child mumbled, his face shadowed in sadness. He shifted his dark eyes over at Mike, peering up at him through long dark eyelashes, so much like those of Lexi. "Will you play with me when you get done talkin' to my Momma?"

"We'll see," the engineer said, ruffling the little boy's dark hair.

Antonio stared back down at his plate. He had heard that expression before from the adults in his life and it always meant the same thing – no.

Upstairs, Lexi was fuming at her friend. "I can't believe you and Marco did this to me!"

"You agreed to talk to him, so go… talk," Bri replied, flinging her arm in the direction of the door.

Ignoring her, Lexi stepped over to the dresser. "All these drawers are empty," she said, giving her friend an unnecessary tour of the small bedroom. There are extra sheets and pillows on the top shelf of the closet. The bathroom is right across the hall, and the towels and …"

"Cut it out!" Bri jumped in.

"I just want to welcome you home, Bri. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, but you're avoiding talking to the most wonderful man you could ever hope to meet, and he's right downstairs in your kitchen at this moment. Now go!"

Lexi crossed her arms, defiantly. "Guess the two of you have been talking about me, too, huh?"

"A little… yes. And he loves you, Lex. But… he needs to know that you love him, too."

Lexi turned her head, straightening the fresh roses in the vase on top of the dresser. "And what if I don't?"

"Liar."

"Am not. I'm the only one who knows how I feel," Lexi retorted.

"And how exactly do you feel, Lex?"

Hesitating momentarily, looking out the window at Mike's truck in her driveway, Lexi thought back over all the nights she had spent sitting in that same truck, enjoying the company of a man she thought was paying her for her companionship instead of for a sex act. She had heard Bri talk about johns who had done that, but Lexi had never encountered one, until Michael Stoker came along. Then she found out that it had all been a lie, a ruse to set up a rescue for her. She thought she had moved past those lies, but when she found out that Mike had been talking to Marco about her and their increasing level of intimacy… Something inside of her snapped. She felt threatened, felt the need to protect herself from being hurt at all costs.

"Did you hear me?" Bri repeated.

"Yes, I heard you. But… I really don't know how I feel, right now."

Both women turned to look at the open doorway when they heard footsteps lumbering up the stairs. "Lexi… Mike is waiting downstairs to talk to you," Maria said softly.

"Okay," Lexi replied, sniffling. "I just need a couple of minutes."

"Fine… He'll be waiting on the porch. Bri," the older woman turned to look at her house guest. "Welcome to our home. Come get some breakfast while it's still hot."

"Thank you," Bri replied, turning to look at Lexi whose shoulders were slumping. "Don't keep him waiting, Lex," she said to her friend as she hesitated just outside the door. "A good man like Mike won't wait around for long. If you don't want a relationship with him, someone out there does… and she'll treat him right," she said, disappearing down the short hallway. She lightly ran her hand along the banister of the stairs as she descended, wishing that she could find a man as caring and kind as Mike Stoker who could find it in his heart to love her, too. One thing was for sure, if she ever had the opportunity, she wouldn't squander it away like Lexi seemed to be doing.

Lexi heard the front door opening and closing, and knew that Mike had walked outside. She could hear the indistinct chatter of her son, knowing the child would follow Mike wherever he went. She tiptoed into the next bedroom, the one she had had since she was born, and sat down beside the open window. This wouldn't be the first time she had eavesdropped on conversations being had on the front porch. She had done it many times when her brothers had been dating. Now she was listening to Mike talking to her own son and it felt like a knife stabbing her in the heart.

On the porch, Mike watched as Antonio crawled into the chair beside him… trying to mimic the way Mike had crossed one ankle over the opposite knee.

"Thought you had to clean up your toys?"

"Grandma said I could sit with you until my Momma comes out. Then I have to go back inside," the little boy responded.

"Oh, I see… So, you want to be the Lone Ranger?"

"Yessir… but I don't got no cowboy boots. I got o' pistol though," the child piped up, excitedly. "It shoots caps, like… pow, pow, pow!"

"Wow, your very own cap gun. What about a mask? The Lone Ranger has to have a mask," Mike added, already mentally calculating where he might be able to purchase a pair of cowboy boots for the youngster.

"My grandma is gonna make me a mask and Meeko might buy me a cowboy hat… If I ask him to, real nicely," he quickly added.

"Well, let me take a good look at those sneakers of yours," Mike said, reaching for the child's left foot. He saw the faded 5 on the underside of the shoe and grinned. He'd try to find a pair of boots as a surprise for the wannabe western lawman. "No… I don't think those will work for riding Silver. Definitely got to get you some cowboy boots."

"I'll ask my Momma," he replied. His face suddenly clouded over and Mike knew that the child wanted to talk about a serious subject.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

"What comes after Halloween?"

"Um," Mike thought for a moment, making sure he understood what Antonio was really asking. "You mean, what's the next holiday?

"Uh-huh."

"That would be Thanksgiving."

"Like with Pilgrims and Indians and a turkey?"

Mike chuckled a little. Children were very perceptive, and they certainly never forgot anything. "Yes, that's right."

"And then what?"

"I guess the next big holiday would be Christmas."

The little boy propped his elbow on the arm of the chair, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "So I still have time to be extra special good this year?"

Mike snickered, placing his hand along the child's upper back, patting it softly. Obviously, his little friend had something very special he wanted for Christmas. "Yea, I'd say you have time. First, we'll have Halloween, then Thanksgiving, and then we'll have Christmas. There must be something mighty big that you want to see underneath your tree on Christmas morning…"

Antonio nodded. "I just hope I can be good enough to get one. I think I've been a bad boy."

Upstairs, Lexi's heart leapt into her throat. Why would her precious little boy think that he had misbehaved?

"What makes your say that," Mike asked the child, concerned.

"Well… 'cause my Momma's been sad so that means I've been a bad boy," he mumbled, obviously struggling not to cry.

"C'mere, buddy," Mike said, offering his hand to the little boy, helping him out of the chair and into Mike's lap. "I don't think it's you who's been a bad boy. I think maybe Mister Mike has been a bad boy."

Big brown eyes looked up at Mike, inquisitively. "Did you say you was sorry?"

Mike thought for a moment. "I tried to, but… I'm not really sure what I did that was bad," he tried to explain, being as honest as he could be with the five year-old.

"When you're bad, you s'posed to say 'sorry.'"

Upstairs, Lexi let her tears stream down her face, seeping into the corners of her mouth with their briny taste. "I'm sorry… Michael," she whispered to herself.

Mike offered his best smile to the child. "I know," he said, desperately needing to change the subject. "So, is this thing you want for Christmas something big?" He had a feeling he knew what it was, and he was determined to make this little boy's Christmas the best one he had ever had.

"Uh-huh," Antonio replied, his face brightening.

"And do you ride it?"

Antonio thought for a moment, covering his mouth with his pudgy little hand as he laughed. "Uh-huh… sometimes."

Mike rubbed his chin as if thinking long and hard for the right answer, feeling confident about the fire truck peddle car he assumed Antonio wanted. Marco had told him how the little boy liked to play fireman when he was outside with the water hose, helping Maria water her roses. "Let me think… Is it a pony?"

"No, silly… I don't have a barn for a pony to sleep in."

"Oh… yea… that could be a problem… Hmmm… so then where would this Christmas present sleep… at a fire station, maybe?"

Antonio grinned, obviously enjoying the guessing game he was playing. "Uh-huh, sometimes it would sleep at the fire station and sometimes it might even sleep with me."

Mike laughed, momentarily forgetting that his argument with Lexi was the reason for his visit to the Lopez home. He was enjoying his time with the precocious little boy. He knew that Lexi had no income, so Mike silently vowed to make sure that if Antonio wanted a peddle car fire engine for Christmas, then he was going to get it, even if Mike wasn't invited over to see the youngster's face on Christmas morning. He had grown fond of the child and would do most anything to make him happy. "So, if I see Santa Claus around town, and if you're extra special good between now and Christmas, should I tell Santa that you want your very own fire engine?"

Antonio straightened up, knitting together his light brown eyebrows. "No… I don't wanna fire engine for Christmas."

Now it was Mike's turn to arch his eyebrows in confusion. "Then what is that you want Santa to bring you?"

The little round face brightened up, all traces of the previous sadness and tears gone. "I want a daddy for Christmas."

Maria, who was walking through the living room in search of her grandson, rushed out the door having overheard enough of the conversation to know that she needed to interrupt it. "Antonio, I think I told you to clean the living room, didn't I? Let's go," she said, reaching out for her grandson's hand, her head turned away from her guest. She couldn't let Mike see her red face, didn't want him to know that she had overheard what Antonio had said.

She left Antonio in the living room, putting away his matchbox cars, while she walked up the stairs, stopping by her daughter's room. She saw Lexi sitting beside her open window and knew that she had overheard the request her son had made. "Lexi? You need to-"

"I know," Lexi replied, forcing down the lump in her throat. Should she pursue a relationship with Michael just so Antonio would be able to have a father-figure in his life? But then what would that do to the youngster if their relationship failed? She knew the pain of abandonment, of needing someone who wasn't there. How could she subject her young son to that kind of trauma? "I'm going down in just a minute."

Bri, having finished her breakfast, walked out onto the porch, frustrated when she realized that Lexi still hadn't come downstairs. "I'm sorry, Mike. She said she was coming down to talk to you. I don't understand her."

"Neither do I," the tall engineer said, standing up from his seated position. "But, I can take a hint." He walked down the steps towards his pick-up, then turned back around. "Tell her that…" He lowered his eyes. "Never mind…. Just tell Antonio that I'll be on the lookout for Santa Claus."

"I hope that you won't think I'm guilty by association," Bri commented, closing the distance between them. She shrugged her shoulders when he gave her a questioning look. "I heard that in a police station once, when I got arrested."

"You've been arrested?" Mike asked.

"Way too many times," Bri chuckled nervously. She couldn't believe how easy he was to talk to. There was genuine concern on his handsome face, no sign of judgment at all in his caring blue eyes. She was beginning to understand how easily Lexi had fallen for him.

"Not much fun, is it?" Mike asked as he leaned his hips against the driver's side door. He already knew the answer, remembering how he felt when he had been arrested for arsons he didn't commit.

"Nope, but they fed me and gave me a blanket. That was more than my pimp did for me, at times."

"I'm sorry for what you've been through, Bri. I'm glad that it's all behind you now," he said.

"I don't know if it's all behind me. I've still got a lot of issues, especially about men in uniforms."

"Oh?" the fireman asked, wondering if his own department blues had caused her any alarm.

"Yea, let's just say that I got arrested several times, but I didn't always get booked into the jail. A lot of times, I was taken to a secluded area of the county and… the arresting officers… um… called it negotiating the terms of my release, but… I called it something else."

"Did you report the rapes?" he asked, knowing that she had not given herself willingly to those men who took advantage of her when they were sworn to protect and serve.

Bri hung her head, surprised by her own boldness to share this with him. But he had shared intimate details with her, so she wanted to return the favor, to earn his trust. "Nu-uh… who would've believed me - a street whore - over well-respected cops?"

"I would've," Mike replied, never missing a beat.

"That's one of the things that makes you so special, Mike," she said, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck, then placing a quick kiss on his cheek without even thinking about what she was doing. "Thank you for bringing me here. I really appreciate it… and I appreciate you," she said, taking a step back, feeling a warm blush coloring her cheeks.

Mike was stunned by her display, but even more surprised by how the brief physical contact and the words of gratitude made him feel better about himself. "Take care and stay in touch," he called over his shoulder as he opened the door of his pick-up.

Bri stepped away from the truck, watching him back out of the driveway. She slipped her fingers into the back pockets of her jeans, smiling as she turned around go back into the Lopez home. But movement in an upstairs window caught her attention. The sight of Lexi staring down at her with a look of betrayal on her face as she closed the window and quickly vanished let Bri know that her friend had seen the exchange between Bri and Mike… and Lexi obviously didn't approve.

E!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

At his apartment, Marco pulled his car into its usual parking place. His breakfast had been a quick one, but the food had been delicious and the conversation had remained comfortable. Neither he nor Beverly knew what to do about Mike and Lexi, but both had confirmed that the other couple was not getting along well. Marco patted the application, still firmly folded and kept secured in his pocket, then got out of his car and waited for Beverly. They definitely needed to talk about their own future.

He ushered Beverly into his apartment, then closed the door behind him. When he turned around, afterdropping his keys into the bowl in his foyer, Beverly wrapped her arms around him.

"Now, Mr. Lopez… About our other hunger pangs…"

Marco kissed her longingly, enjoying their closeness and the taste of her. Her scent drove him insane and they hadn't even made it to the bedroom yet. "Yes… about that…," he grinned. "Let's let our food settle first, alright?" he snickered.

"Oh, yea," Beverly replied, dropping her purse on the small coffee table. "I think you said something about wedding plans," she said with a smile.

"That, too," he responded, cryptically. "What were you thinking about as far as the ceremony goes?"

"Something simple. I don't have any family and I have very little money, so I really don't have a reason or the means to have a big wedding." She spun around, feeling as if she had accidently slapped him. "I'm sorry… You do have a big family. Did you want to have a big wedding?"

Marco sauntered up to her, pulling her into another embrace. "Nope, but I want a big honeymoon." He gasped when her probing hands moved southward, finding what they were searching for. He moaned with delight as she continued her ministrations. "My food better digest fast," he murmured.

She pulled back quickly, staring into his dark brown eyes. "Do you want something simple with just your family?"

"Maybe my family and the guys from the station. I'd really like for them to be there. I'd even like for Chet to stand up with me as my best man. How about you?"

"I don't want Chet to be my best man," she snickered. "I could ask Lexi to be my maid of honor, though."

Marco allowed his hands to slide down her back, resting one hand on either hip. "My Mama's house has a big back yard. And we always have a big Thanksgiving with everyone coming over. This year, Lexi will be there, so…"

"Do you think they'd mind if we hijacked the Thanksgiving celebration with our wedding?" She asked, her eyes glowing a bright emerald green.

"I think that's a perfect place and time for it. I have so much to be thankful for this year," he replied, planting another kiss on her full lips. "Wow, setting the date was easy," he smiled down at her, kissing her lightly.

As the kiss deepened, Beverly ran her hands up his muscular chest, feeling the rumpled paper tucked inside his shirt pocket. "What's this?" she asked, tapping it lightly with her fingers.

Marco reached up, grasping her hands inside his larger ones. "That's the other part of our future I wanted to talk to you about," he replied, pulling her towards his sofa. "Have a seat."

"Marco?" Beverly had grown accustomed to reading people's non-verbal cues, especially those of her fiancé. She could see the tension and stress all over his face, feel it in his trembling hands, and wondered if she should be worried.

Marco sat beside her, withdrawing the discarded application. He watched as a shadow fell across her features, recognition settling in her eyes, the creases of her forehead growing deeper.

"Where did you get that?"

"I found it in your office."

Her eyes grew wide. "You went through my office trash?"

"No," he responded, knowing that she would react in this manner. "It wasn't in the trash. It was beside the wastebasket."

"That doesn't make it okay for you to plunder through my stuff, Marco," she replied, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "There's confidential stuff in there."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't plundering, baby. But… why did you throw it away?"

She looked down at her hands, seeing a hangnail, she began picking at it. "Because, I… I'm… not smart enough to go to graduate school. I thought I wanted to be a psychologist, a therapist, so I could help the ladies at the Wellhouse more than I am now."

"You ARE smart enough. So, I'm going to ask you again… Why did you throw it away? This could be your future? It holds the possibility of everything you want to be!" He replied, seeing her eyes misting over.

"No… Marco, YOU hold the possibility of everything I've ever wanted to be. YOU are my future. Being a wife and… perhaps one day, a mother… that's everything I ever wanted," she choked out in a raspy whisper.

Tenderly, he cupped her face in his hands, using his thumbs to brush away the tears. "Bev… you can have all that, and your education, too."

"No," she quickly stated, shaking her head and lowering her gaze, pulling away from his gentle touch. "Graduate school, especially for as long as it takes to become a psychologist, is expensive, and-"

"And I'm just a fireman, so you think we can't afford it," he said, for the first time feeling inadequate to provide for her.

"I didn't say that, Marco. I just… I'd rather be a wife and… and a mother."

Marco continued his debate, having had a little bit of time to plan what he would say. "Look, we'll be saving money by not having two apartments. That money could go towards the expenses of graduate school. Plus, I can work extra shifts, and-"

"Oh no, no way am I going to ask you to put yourself in any more danger than you already do."

Marco clenched his jaw muscles, trying not to allow his frustration to show. "You aren't asking me… I'm offering to help you do this." He looked into her emerald eyes, seeing the pain she was trying so hard to hide. "I… I can't allow you to give up on your dreams. I won't let you do it. I'll just mail it in myself."

Beverly felt an emotional stabbing sensation piercing her soul. She hadn't allowed a man to make decisions for her since she had escaped from the clutches of her pimp. She gritted her teeth together, her resolve steeling at the unpleasant reminder of her past. "Actually… I don't think it's your decision to make."

Marco watched as she stood up, reaching for her purse and turning her back to him. He had crossed the line with her and he knew it. "Beverly… please… don't go. I… I didn't mean to… to sound so, um, disrespectful."

"Is this how our marriage is gonna be?" she asked, spinning around to look at him. She fingered the engagement ring, wondering if he was going to ask for it back. "If we get married, are you gonna expect me to take orders from you and… and have no voice in our relationship?" Her breath was becoming ragged in spite of her best efforts to remain calm.

"Bev…"

"Don't 'Bev' me, Marco! I know that some women say a vow to OBEY their husbands, but… Maybe you've forgotten about where I came from." She stared at him, knowing she was hurting him badly, but at the moment, she couldn't stop the barrage spewing forth. "I spent too many years having no control over my own life. I was told what to wear, where to go, what to eat, when to sleep, who to…," she hesitated, not wanting to say anything more, the remorse on his face, obvious. "I love you more than life itself, Marco. But I won't," she hiccupped, feeling the back of her throat becoming scratchy. "I can't… give up the freedom I've gained… I… just can't do that… Not even… not even for you." She quickly shouldered her purse and rushed from the apartment, ignoring his pleas for her to stay. She was feeling her throat closing up, her chest tightening, and she recognized it as a panic attack – something she hadn't experienced in a very long time.

Marco stood still, staring at the door Beverly had slammed shut when she rushed from his apartment. How could their morning have changed so drastically in just a few minutes? Unwilling to allow her to leave in her current emotional state, he rushed to follow her.

She was hurrying to her car, feeling as if her shadow was breathing down the back of her neck, stretching out dark claws to drag her back into a life she despised. She quickly opened her car door, jumping inside and locking it. Her eyes darted around, looking for faces from her past, wondering if she was really being followed, or if perhaps she was beginning to crack under the emotional stress and strain of all the recent rescues. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she began to weep, slowly allowing her head to rest against the steering wheel. "No… No, please… no more. I can't… I just can't take this… again," she cried to herself, hating what she had said and done. How could she have thought that a man like Marco Lopez would be trying to lure her into a life of total submission to his perceived authority?

Sensing a presence watching her, she slowly raised her head, her tear-filled eyes seeing the blurry image of her fiancé hovering near the driver's side door. She saw the anguish in his eyes, saw the guilt on his face, and she knew that the entire disagreement had been her fault.

Swallowing back her pride and her fears, she slowly opened the door, wondering what he might say to her. She was feeling disheveled, vulnerable, powerless. "Mar-co?"

No words were said, none were needed. He merely reached inside the car and assisted her out. He wrapped his arms around her very slowly, not wanting to startle her, wanting to give her every opportunity to back away from him. After several long moments, she laid her head against his chest, relishing the safety she felt within his embrace. And standing in the parking lot, she wept.

"Sshhh," he whispered, caressing her hair, grateful that she was allowing him to comfort her. "I'm so sor-"

"Nuh-uh, no… please… don't s-say it… It's my… fault," she somehow managed to say between her soft sobs.

As much as he wanted to carry her back into his apartment, he knew what he had to do. She needed to have total control over the situation. "Bev…, will you please come back inside and talk to me about what just happened?"

The question seemed so much less threatening than a statement. He knew exactly what she needed, and he loved her enough to give her the choice, cared for her enough to give her the option of refusing his request, even in something as simple as asking her to return to his apartment. Unable to find her voice, she nodded in agreement, allowing him to lead her back inside.

As soon as he had closed the apartment door behind them, he carefully removed her purse from her shoulder, dropping it back onto the coffee table before gently encouraging her to take a seat on his sofa. He never removed his arm from around her, wanting her to physically feel his support.

He kissed her lightly on top of her head. "Let me get you some water, okay?" He waited for her to agree, before slowly getting up and walking into his kitchen. He poured her a glass of cold water, then carried it back to the living room. "Here you go," he said, handing it to her.

Beverly's throat was dry, but although she really wanted the refreshing drink, her hands were shaking too much to hold the glass.

"I've got it," Marco offered, lifting the glass to her mouth. As soon as she had taken a few sips, he lowered it, giving her a moment to catch her breath. "More?"

"P-please," she agreed, appreciating his patient act of comfort. 'I don't deserve this… Don't deserve him…,' she thought to herself. After drinking a little more, she pulled away, lowering her gaze to her hands in her lap. She waited for him to set the glass of water aside before she spoke. "If you… want to… call it off…"

Marco held his open hand on the edge of her knee, barely touching her. He felt a sense of relief when she responded to his silent invitation by placing her hand in his larger one. He slowly closed his fingers around her hand, lightly brushing the ring he had given her. "I don't want to call off anything…," he smiled, hoping his voice sounded a little lighter. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

"I… I panicked… again," she sniffled.

"How long has it been since you've had one of these?" he asked, no judgment in his voice.

"It's been… a long… time."

"What made it happen now?" he asked, his heart breaking at her shuddering breath. "Be honest with me. If I did or said something, then I need to know."

"I'm… not sure."

Marco didn't really believe her, but he didn't want to pressure her. "That's okay… you're okay now… and… no, I do not want to call off the wedding. What kind of husband would I be if I ran out on you over this?"

"Humph… a normal one," she said, her voice beginning to sound stronger.

"It's supposed to be in good times and bad, sickness and health, for richer or poorer…"

"You really want to marry a mess like me?"

Marco smiled, squeezing her hand. "I want to marry you, and you, my sweet lady, are not a mess."

"I think… maybe I need some… help… before we start… our lives together," she finally admitted, feeling weak.

"I think that's a good idea, baby," he said, reaching over to gently lift her chin so that she was looking at him. "But I want to go with you. I think I need help, too."

"But you haven't…"

"But I want to understand how to give you what you need, Bev. I don't want to do anything that might cause a repeat of what just happened. Please, I want to go, too."

"You'd… do that… for me?"

"Yes, Beverly; I'd walk through fire for you. I just… don't want to stand… in the way of your dreams," he said, his voice fading to a whisper as his lips lightly brushed against hers.

"You aren't standing in the way, Marco…," she whispered, feeling much calmer now. "You're standing beside me while I live the life I never dreamed I would have."

E!

Across town, Mike turned his radio up a little louder than normal, grateful that his middle-aged neighbors were at work. He opened the refrigerator, pulling out a can of beer and popping the tab. The misty spurt dampened his hand, but he didn't mind. He knew it was early to be drinking, but he also knew that he needed to get some sleep and drinking a beer before a hot shower always helped him relax.

He finished his frosty beverage, tossing the empty can in his trashcan before heading down the hallway, emitting an uncharacteristic belch. He quickly stripped off his clothing, tossing them into his hamper next to his bathroom door, and headed for the shower. He stepped beneath the hot spray, feeling the tension melting, floating away with the suds that circled the drain before disappearing. The soothing sounds of the running water filled his ears, leaving him blissfully unaware of the sound of his ringing telephone.

E!

Bri's eyes followed the phone cord as it snaked from the wall in the hallway until it ran beneath the door of the room she knew was Lexi's bedroom. She listened for a moment, hoping to hear the comforting sounds of Lexi talking to Mike. Instead, she winced at the sound of the receiver being slammed down. She heard Lexi walking towards her door, and because she didn't want a confrontation, Bri hurried into her room, closing the door behind her.

Lexi replaced the phone on the hallway table, noting that Bri's door was closed. She pressed her lips together tightly, then quickly turned on her heels and headed downstairs. She couldn't get Mike on the phone, and she refused to talk to Bri, right now. She needed to talk to her mother and, perhaps more importantly, she knew she HAD to talk to Antonio, although she had no idea what she might say. She no longer knew the status of her relationship with Mike, and now she could add her relationship with Bri to that, too. But no matter what, she knew that her mother and Antonio loved her, and right now, she needed to be with them.

As she reached the ground floor, she could hear the sound of water running through the pipes in the crawl space beneath the floor. She immediately knew that her mother, and probably Antonio, were watering the rose garden. She forced a smile to appear on her face and headed for the eastern side of the house.

"Antonio, do you think you can dismount Silver and put on your fireman's helmet for me?" Maria asked, knowing how much her grandson enjoyed playing with the water hose.

"Uh-huh," the youngster agreed, swinging one leg high and out to the side. He then reached for an unseen helmet, adjusted the pretend chin-strap, then walked up beside his grandmother. They had made a game of watering the roses when he was just a toddler. Marco had showed him how to tap her elbow from behind to indicate that he would be taking over control of the hose.

Maria grinned when she felt the soft touch of his hand. Carefully, as if the hose were a fully charged inch and a half, she passed it off to him. "Okay, Ant… Give them some fog, just like Meeko taught you."

"I know how to do it," he said, dropping to the ground, the small green water hose lying between his knees.

Maria propped her hand on her hip, watching him swirling a wide spray of water onto her rose garden. "I think the white one is about to flash over," she commented, letting him know which one wasn't getting the proper amount of hydration.

"On it, Cap," he called out, playfully. Quickly he adjusted the nozzle so that the stream was focusing on the white rose bush on the far end.

Lexi leaned against the front porch railing, enjoying watching the two of them for a moment. "He's got quite an imagination, doesn't he?" she asked, letting her mother know she was there. She didn't want to startle the older woman when she turned around.

Maria looked over her shoulder. She could see that Lexi had been crying, but the face she was trying to display was a brave one. "A lot like his Momma was, at that age."

"I never wanted to be a fireman, though," Lexi chuckled.

"No… If I remember correctly, you wanted to be a nurse." Maria stepped away from the rose garden, moving closer to the place where Lexi stood. She didn't want Antonio to hear what she was about to say. "Did you talk to him, yet?"

Lexi crossed her arms, dropping her gaze. "No… He isn't home." She jerked her head in the direction of Antonio. "But I've got to talk to Michael soon about what Ant told him."

Maria slowly sat down on the edge of the porch, leaning her aching back against the railing beneath where Lexi stood. "What's there to talk about? Antonio was just being honest with him. There's no harm in that."

"Well, I just need Michael to understand that… that's not how I feel. I know Ant needs a father-figure, but… I'm not… looking for Ant a father, you know? I'd rather he didn't have a daddy than to have one that…" Lexi knew she was rambling because she honestly didn't know what she was going to say when she did speak to Mike.

Maria continued watching as Antonio moved from one plant to another. "Perhaps you should take a lesson from your son."

"What do you mean?"

Maria sighed, running the back of her hand across her forehead. "Antonio was honest with Mike. Maybe you should be, too. If you want to take some time to just find yourself… or date someone else, then you should let him know and… just go your separate ways." Maria knew that this would likely get a strong reaction from her daughter.

"Humph… I'm not the one who wants to date someone else. HE does! Didn't you see him with Bri? She's being a little tramp… trying to come between me and Michael. I NEVER should've let her move in here. I should've known that she would be after Michael. She practically threw herself at him! Did you see her, Mama? Did you see her kiss him? And… he didn't even try to stop her! Argh!"

Upstairs, Bri lay across her bed, staring at the ceiling. "Ugh… What am I doing here?" she whispered to herself, bending one elbow and resting her head on her hand. She was twenty-five years old and without Ms. Lopez' generosity, she would be homeless and broke. She had no job and very few possessions. She wondered what she was going to do to support herself, shuddering at the thought of having to survive on the streets again.

Feeling restless, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, she looked around the small room. Her two bags were propped in the corner and her purse was sitting beside them. "Welcome home, Bri," she mumbled to herself, sarcastically.

She spent the next ten minutes carefully folding her clothing and placing each piece in the chest of drawers. She found a clothes hanger in the closet and hung up the dress the men from 51's had bought her after she had testified at Mike's personnel hearing. Her eyes became misty as she remembered how the small group had made her feel when they bought her the new outfit, shoes, and even a vase of flowers. She had never been treated so well in her life. Her temporary trip down memory lane also brought back the thought of one specific person – Samford Bennett. She recalled how he had gently cradled her in his arms as he carried her out to the car to be transported to Rampart. He had even visited her in the hospital, and had talked with her at Lexi's welcome home party. She had not been able to stay long that night, having just been released from the hospital. Dr. Brackett had reluctantly agreed for Beverly to take her to the party for just a few minutes on the way to begin her new life at the Wellhouse.

"Forget it, Bri… He's way out o' your league," she chided herself, grasping the straps of her purse and plopping down on the bed. She turned the small cross-body purse upside down, emptying its contents onto the bedspread. She opened the small brown and yellow coin holder, removing a few folded bills and a couple of coins. She needed to know just how much money she had, unsure of how long it would have to last her. She unfolded the bills, seeing a small piece of white paper fall out.

There it was. Sam Bennett's business card. She read the line of numbers near the bottom of the card. Should she call him? Let him know that she was out of the Wellhouse? Then she thought better of it. Why would he want to know? He was only being nice to her when she was injured, right? Checking on her at the party because he was a gentleman. Surely, he had a girlfriend; a professional man like Sam couldn't possibly be available… and even if he was, he wasn't waiting on a former prostitute to make his life complete.

"Bri, you are one dumb bitch, just like Ricardo always told you. You're a nobody, a whore, worthless…," she mumbled. She thought of Lexi and how lucky she was to have a family willing to take her back. She thought her own mother's corpse lying cold in a grave ever since she overdosed on LSD when Bri was just a child. She briefly wondered if her father had ever been paroled from prison for armed robbery. She never understood why he had done that, questioning his sanity when he had explained to her that his drug addiction was stronger than his fear of dying, even after watching his wife die from the same drugs he stole money to buy. She shook her head, dismissing the thoughts of her parents. Neither was available to help her and she even wondered if they had ever wanted her in the first place. After all, how could a parent choose drugs over their own child? Then she thought of Beverly and how lucky she was to have found a man like Marco to love her. Would she ever be that lucky or was she destined to be alone for the rest of her life? She pressed her lips together in a thin line, determined to make the most of her situation, just like she always did. All the luck was used up in this part of the world. She would have to make her own way in life, just like she always had done.

She would stay with Ms. Lopez for a few days, or until the older woman asked her to leave. Obviously, staying in the same house with Lexi wasn't going to work on a long-term basis. She would have to do something to provide for herself; she just hoped she could avoid returning to her former life. But no matter what happened, one thing she knew for sure – she wasn't going to become dependent on a man again. No, if Beverly could do it, then so could she. She would somehow make it on her own.

She shoved the card back down into her purse. "He doesn't care about you… No man does… No man ever will. They only want one thing!" She knew that wasn't true, at least not true of all men. After all, there was Marco… and Mike… Mike. She sighed as she shifted her position on the bed. She had to get Mike out of her mind. Even if things didn't work out between the engineer and Lexi, Bri wasn't about to seek out a relationship with him… But she had to admit to herself that having someone like Mike to lean on would be nice.

Slowly, she opened the folded cash, counting out $12.50. "Ugh… shit!" Bri cursed, folding the money back into a flattened rectangle, returning it to the small coin pouch. She tucked the pouch back inside the purse before hiding it on the top shelf inside the closet. Old habits were hard to break. Even though she trusted the Lopez family, she felt compelled to hide the small amount of money she owned. If she lost that, she would truly have nothing.

E!

"Okay, that's it," Beverly said, hanging up the telephone in Marco's apartment. "We're scheduled to see Betty Adams," she announced, reading the name she had written down on the piece of paper beside his telephone.

"Do you know her?"

Beverly looked over at the man sitting beside her. "No, but Dr. Baker highly recommends her. She has experience working with women who have been prostitutes."

"When's the appointment?" Marco asked.

"Thursday at 3:00 pm. Are you sure that'll work with your schedule?"

Marco hugged her tightly, kissing her lightly on top of her head. "Yes… I'll work off shift that morning, so even if we get a late run, I'll still be home in time to go with you."

E!

Mike felt his face begin to contort in a yawn as he dried himself off, slipping on a tee shirt and boxer shorts. He closed the blinds in his bedroom, needing to limit the Southern California sunlight from interfering with his sleep. As he pulled back the covers on his bed, he glanced at his telephone. He didn't like taking it off the hook, leaving others no way of reaching him, but he was about to pull a quick turnaround and a double shift. He had to get his rest. Reluctantly, he removed the receiver from the cradle and laid it on the nightstand before crawling between the sheets. Suddenly, a piercing repetitive and annoying sound assaulted his ears.

"Damn it," he cursed. He knew the noise would soon end, but, at the moment, it was giving him a headache – something he definitely didn't need. So instead of waiting for it to stop, he replaced the receiver in the cradle and reached around to the back of the phone to flip the plastic ringer switch to the 'off' position. At least he would be able to get some sleep without being disturbed.

E!

"Chet?" Caroline called out from the kitchen where she was preparing dinner while her fiancé sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room floor, having a tea party with his future stepdaughter.

"Yes…pppssstth" he responded, noisily blowing and spitting the pink feathers out of his mouth from the boa Corrie had draped around his neck. "That tickles, ladybug," he whispered to the giggling little girl.

"I'd like to talk about wedding colors and flowers after dinner, if that's okay with you."

Chet cut his eyes at Corrie who had just taken her seat across the coffee table, pretending to pour tea into their cups. He wiggled his eyebrows at her, enjoying watching her pudgy cheeks pinken at the face he made. He then raised his voice in response to Caroline. "Awe, c'mon, babe. I'm being choked by a feather boa at a tea party and now you want to talk about flowers? You two are gonna turn me into some kind of fairy, aren't you?" he complained, winking at Corrie, thankful that the precocious child didn't understand that he wasn't talking about little flying mythical creatures like Tinkerbell.

Caroline peered across the kitchen bar, seeing Chet daintily picking up his tiny tea cup, his pinky finger jutting out at an angle. She couldn't stop the snicker that escaped from her lips. "Well, get used to it, hon. There's nothing but estrogen in your future," she laughed.

Chet glared at her briefly, then released a huge grin. "And I wouldn't have it any other way. As for the wedding, I already know the date and time, AND I know that I'm wearing my dress uniform so… What else do I need to know?"

"Well," she continued, returning her attention to the potatoes she was mashing. "I was thinking that since it will be 1976, and it's our nation's bicentennial year, maybe we could incorporate that into the wedding… You know, maybe decorate with red roses, white hydrangea, and I found this really pretty blueberry colored Iris, and-"

"And that all sounds perfect, Caroline," he said, eyeing Corrie suspiciously as the little girl stood up, walking around behind him.

"So, you're okay with the colors then? I think they'll blend in perfectly with the red fire engine that will be on your groom's cake," Caroline suggested, setting the mashed potatoes aside and slipping her hands into oven mitts. She didn't want to overcook the meatloaf. She removed the entrée from the oven and set the sizzling pan on the stove, spinning around when she heard a loud groan from the man she loved.

"Ugh! Ladybug, this is crossing the line!" Chet argued, playfully.

Caroline released a belly-heaving laugh at the sight of her firefighter fiancé whose head was being adorned, not with his usual fire helmet, but with a sparkling tiara. "It looks great with your curly hair, Chet," she laughed, discreetly opening a drawer and removing her small camera.

"Yea, yea… Gage better not ever find out about this," he mumbled, looking up when he heard the clicking of the camera. "CAROLINE!"

E!

Darkness blanketed the city of Los Angeles, as if tucking her in for the night. Johnny sat sipping a cup of coffee, trying not to stare at the silent telephone hanging on the wall of the Campbell residence. Would she call him?

"I honestly don't know how you can sleep when you drink coffee right before going to bed," Sharon mused.

Johnny, jolted from his reverie by the melodic sound of his mother's voice, set the cup back down on the coaster. He pasted a smile on his face, hoping to hide how he was really feeling. "Oh, you get used to it when you work a 24 hour shift," he explained. "Sometimes, I think I could sleep standing up." Suddenly a memory surfaced that caused his trademark grin to appear. "In fact, I actually fell asleep riding on the tailboard of the engine once."

"What?" Sharon gasped. Her mind's eye immediately sending images of her son falling from the back of the moving engine.

"On a run?" Roddy questioned, unable to comprehend what he was hearing.

"Yea."

"You mean to tell me that you fell asleep while the engine was responding… with lights and sirens?" the older man asked in disbelief.

"Yep… and it wasn't even a paramedic run," Johnny laughed, remembering his experiences with insomnia that led to the mishap; grateful for the opportunity to tell another story about the station – and for the temporary escape it offered from his stressing over the lack of a phone call from his beloved.

E!

The night skies over Selma lit up with streaks of lightning from the late autumn storm. Torrents of rain blew against the antique windows and the howling wind rushed about as if seeking entrance into the Victorian-style plantation home of Isaac and Collen Jones. Iris stood beside the front parlor windows, watching the ghostly limbs of the centuries old oak tree in the front yard thrashing around when the blue-white lightning lit up the premises.

"I'd forgotten just how rough these storms can be," she said, trying to hide her concern from the others. "We don't get storms like this out west."

"Don't let it bother you, dear," her mother soothed, lighting another candle to counter the darkness of the old home. "I'm sure the power company will get the lights back on as soon as the storm passes."

"Yea, this ol' house has seen her share of storms. She'll be just fine," Isaac reassured his daughter.

"The telephone is still out," Lily announced as she entered the room, plopping down on the sofa with a frustrated sigh.

"Pro'bly got water in the phone lines again," Isaac suggested. "That happened back in '69 when Camille came through."

"Who's Camille?" Lily asked, trying to make sense of what she was hearing.

Isaac gave a soft chuckle. "Camille was one of the worst hurricanes to ever hit this part of the country. Dang near wiped Biloxi off the map," he said, rubbing his left arm.

"Are you okay, Daddy?" Iris asked, stepping closer to him, concerned. "Are you having chest pain again?"

"No, no… jus' a little ache in my bones. Nothin' serious," he replied, not wanting to alarm them. If he told them the truth, then they would insist he go to the hospital and he wasn't going to place his family in harm's way by having them drive in this kind of weather. He pushed himself up slowly from his favorite chair. "I reckon I better go get me a couple o' aspirin," he stated, walking towards the kitchen.

Suddenly a bright white flash exploded just outside the house, the sizzling noise it made was immediately silenced by the enormous cracking sound, then the entire house shook, windows rattling from the thunder. But it was the sound of shattering glass from the kitchen that caused Iris' heart to nearly stop.

"DADDY!"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Isaac was stunned and disoriented. He could tell that he was on the floor, but where? The last thing he remembered was walking to the kitchen for some aspirin. He blinked his eyes rapidly, hoping to clear his vision as well as his mental fog. Yes, he was definitely on the kitchen floor, but what could have happened?

Feeling around in the darkness, he noticed something sticky running down his elbow and into his hand. "Ugh," he groaned, feeling pain in his chest and arm. He tried to turn his head in search of the sounds of shuffling feet and panic-stricken voices.

"ISAAC!"

"Daddy, are you okay?" Iris called out, kneeling down beside her fallen father. "Don't move."

"What happened?" he asked, trying to sit up, but acquiescing to his daughter's hand pushing him back down.

"The floor's wet," Lily commented, holding her candle near the floor, seeing the glint created by the flame reflecting in the pooling water.

"There's broken glass, too," Colleen remarked, tip-toeing around the shards along the floor. "Are you hurt?" she asked her husband.

"Nah…," he said, hesitating when he felt another stabbing pain cross his chest. "Jus' my pride, I reckon."

Iris tried to check him over in the dimly lit kitchen. "Where are you bleeding?" she asked, seeing the smears on his hand.

"Not sure…" He looked at his hand in the flickering candle light, stretching his arm to feel for injuries. "Ouch!"

"I see it," Iris replied, standing up to pull a few paper towels from the roll on the counter. "It's the side of your arm," she explained, holding pressure on the wound. "I don't think it's too deep… Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"I think you must've broken a glass, Isaac," Colleen commented, picking up the remnants.

"Oh, no!" Lily gasped. "I left a glass half filled with water on the counter. I'm so sorry."

"No worries, dear," Colleen soothed, sensing that her granddaughter was quickly growing upset. "Accidents happen."

"But… he could've been… hurt badly," she whimpered, trying not to cry.

"Aww, you can't keep… this ol' man… down," Isaac chuckled in spite of the pain he was feeling. "Besides… at least… I entertained ya, didn't I?" he asked, allowing himself to be assisted into a standing position. He rubbed his chest; a move that did not go unnoticed by his daughter.

"Is it your heart?" Iris asked.

"Naw… I don't think so… I think I must've hit something when I fell." The familiar deep ache he had felt earlier had been replaced by a sharper, more defined pain.

Iris quickly helped him unbutton his shirt, holding a candle near his chest. "Yea, I think you did," she said, lightly pressing near the red knot that was forming just below his clavicle. She looked around the room, raising her candle to spread the light. "There."

Everyone's eyes moved in the direction Iris was pointing. "The drawer knob is broken off. Did you grab it when you fell?"

"I don't think so," the elderly man mused, running a hand through his graying hair. "I… I stumbled when the lightning hit the oak tree, and then… the next thing I know, I'm on the floor. I must've hit the drawer knob when I fell."

"Well, you prob'bly knocked the glass off when you stumbled, Isaac," Colleen surmised, trying to clean up as much of the mess as she could. The rest would have to wait until the electricity was restored. "Let's get you back to the living room. Lily, would you mind getting him a couple of aspirin and a glass of water?"

"Sure," the younger woman agreed, grateful that no one seemed angry with her.

As Iris led her father back to the living room, she leaned in and whispered into his ear. "Tell me the truth, Daddy. Is it your heart?"

"I'm jus' havin' my usual angina pain, sweetheart. That's all. I'll be fine as soon as I rest a little. Guess this storm has me a little on edge, too."

"Where's the nitroglycerin?" she asked, looking up when her mother entered the room.

"It's in the upstairs bathroom, but I don't need it… not right now," he explained, offering his wife a smile. He watched as Lily followed behind her, accepting the proffered analgesic and water from his granddaughter. "Let me take this and if it doesn't go away soon, then I'll take the nitro… I promise," he stated, tossing the white pills to the back of his throat and washing them down with several gulps of water.

"I'm sorry, grandpa," Lily whispered, sadly.

"You didn't do anything wrong, sweetie," Isaac said with a grin, wrapping his arm around his newfound granddaughter and pulling her close. The move had been an unconscious act, but one that felt natural for them both. "Lemme tell you a story 'bout what I did that wasn't an accident, but had similar results. You see, when I was jus' a boy, there wasn't a lot to do 'round here to entertain ourselves. So me and a couple o' other boys 'round my age decided we'd play a joke on my mother, your great-grandmother."

"What did you do?" she asked, unaware of the smiling faces of the other women in the room who had already heard the story.

"Well… it all started when we caught a little green snake in the garden…"

While the storm outside continued to rage, the atmosphere inside the Jones' residence seemed to grow warmer and more comfortable. For Lily and Iris, staying longer in Alabama had proven to be the start of a healing process for them both, as well as for Isaac and Colleen.

But for one lonely paramedic in Los Angeles, it was having the opposite effect.

E!

Sharon looked up from the vegetables she was chopping in the kitchen. She had wanted to add a salad to the dinner meal she had planned for Johnny and Roddy. She could hear the familiar soft snores of her husband emanating from the recliner in the Campbell living room, giving their temporary home a familiar feel. But the solemn face of her son sent an emotional arrow through her heart.

She finished cutting up the bell pepper, then dried her hands on a dish cloth. She poured two glasses of iced tea, setting one down in front of Johnny who sat at his usual spot at the kitchen table, his chin propped in his palm.

His dark eyes blinked as he looked up through long eyelashes.

"You're missing her a lot, aren't you?" she asked.

Johnny sighed, offering her a smile as he reached for the glass. "It's kind o' crazy, if ya think about it… I didn't see her for over five years, and then…" He took a long drink, searching for the right words.

"And then you reconnected and now… Now you love her," Sharon completed.

Johnny smiled, this time with his trademark grin finally lighting up his face. "No, Mom… It's just that now I realize that I've loved her all along."

"Then why the long face earlier?" Sharon asked. "Are you worried that she might not come back to California?"

Johnny shifted his position, leaning forward slightly. He clasped his hands together with his elbows resting on the table, nervously biting his lower lip. "I dunno… maybe."

Silence thickened the air between mother and son. Sharon wanted to ask the question that was perched on her lips, but he answered before she even asked it.

Johnny wrapped his fingers on edge of the table, leaning back in his seat and crossing his ankle over the opposite knee. "I've left everything behind before… a couple of times… It ain't easy, but… I can do it again," he said flatly, thinking about what his life might be like if he moved back to Alabama, leaving his friends and station family on the West Coast.

"But…?"

Johnny cut a quick glance at the silent telephone hanging on the kitchen wall. "But what if she wants Alabama… but not me?"

E!

Dinner at the Lopez home had been hot tamales in an icy cold atmosphere. Very few words had been spoken and none had been exchanged between Lexi and Bri. Maria had made multiple attempts to initiate a peaceful reconciliation between the two friends, but finally resorted to conversing with her grandson, instead. Yet, even her attempts to draw Antonio into a friendly conversation had been to no avail. He was a sensitive child who often mirrored the emotions of the adults around him. Tonight, that left him sullen.

"Where's your happy face, Ant?" Maria asked, cutting her eyes at her daughter in silent chastisement.

"I dunno," he said softly, pushing his plate of half-eaten food away from him. "My tummy hurts."

Immediately both Lopez women reached for the little boy's forehead.

"Hmm, no fever," Maria spoke, again using her facial expressions to send a message to her daughter that the likely culprit for Antonio's sudden gastronomic malady was most likely the obvious disagreement between his mother and Bri.

"Well, if he isn't feeling well, maybe I should cancel my appointment tomorrow," Lexi spoke up. "I don't want to take him with us to sit in a crowded waiting room, waiting for God knows how long before I'll ever see the welfare worker," she groused.

"I'm sure Marco can watch him while we're gone," Maria retorted. "It's taken almost three weeks to get an appointment. We are not going to cancel it."

Lexi pressed her lips into a thin line of exasperation. "I don't want to be on welfare."

"It's what's best for both of you," her mother responded. "It's just until you get on your feet. They'll help you get a job after you pass your GED, and you'll have health insurance and a little money to help with-."

"I'm not a charity case, Mama! You think that just because I don't have my own money that I'm gonna go back to the streets?"

"Nobody said you were a char-"

"Momma, are you leavin' me?" Antonio whimpered, cutting into the escalating comments between his mother and grandmother.

Lexi's facial features softened and she reached over, pulling him into her lap. "No… No, of course not, Ant. I'm never leaving you, again. I promise."

"Are you feelin' sick again? Is that why you got to go to the well place?" he asked, innocently.

Immediately, Bri jumped into the conversation, hoping to defuse the situation before it got any worse.

"No, Antonio… It's a place where people go that helps them feel fairly well… That's why they call it the welfare office," she explained, knowing her words were not entirely true, but she hoped the explanation was enough to settle the little boy's angst. "She'll be back in just a couple of hours. That's not so long is it?"

"How long is a couple o' hours?" he asked, his anxiety morphing into curiosity.

Bri pressed her fingers to her chin as if deep in thought. "Well, now let's see… Hmmm… I guess about as long as it takes for you to watch Batman, Flipper, Gilligan's Island, and The Flintstones," remembering her earlier conversation with the child about his television habits.

Antonio slapped his palm against his forehead, a smile cracking across his face. "Ohh, that's not so very long." He turned his face upwards to look in his mother's eyes. "Will they make you feel fairly well again by the time The Flintstones are over?"

"I think Grandma and I will be back by then," Lexi commented, refusing to look at Bri, not wanting to acknowledge that the other woman had helped her out of a sticky situation with her son. She looked over at her mother. "I still don't see why I can't just go alone."

"We've been over this, Lex. I have to go with you to confirm that you are living here with me and that you are under no threat of eviction."

"Speaking of eviction," Bri began, feeling as though she needed to make her intentions known. "I'll be out of here as soon as I can find a job and get my own place." She looked at Maria, feeling nothing but warmth from the matronly woman. "I appreciate the offer to stay here; I really do, but… I think it's obvious that I need to get out of your way as soon as I can."

"Mike has a spare room," Lexi spat out, sarcastically. "I'm sure you could work out a trade."

"ALEXIA!" Mrs. Lopez gasped, cringing when she saw that her raised voice sent her grandson snuggling further into his mother's embrace.

Bri opened her mouth to respond in like manner, but the sight of Antonio squeezing his eyes tightly caused her to clamp her mouth closed. She stood up removing her empty plate and carrying it over to the sink where she began running hot water. "I'll clean up. I enjoyed the meal, Mrs. Lopez, and I appreciate your hospitality."

Lexi ran her hand through Antonio's dark hair, feeling a need to leave the hostility she was feeling from the other two women. "Hey, sport, I've got a great idea. How about a bubble bath?"

"Can my farm animals play in the bubbles, too?"

"They sure can. Let's go corral them up and get them soapy," the young mother exclaimed, grateful that he seemed as eager to leave the kitchen as she did.

As soon as Lexi and Antonio left the kitchen, Maria began clearing the dinner table. Behind her, she could hear Bri swishing water around in the sink, but the noise wasn't enough to cover the sound of her sniffles. Maria set the remaining plates into the quickly filling sink, then allowed her arm to rest around Bri's shoulders.

"I'm sorry about what she said," the older woman apologized. "Sometimes, I still don't recognize my own daughter."

Bri longed to lean into the tender embrace, yearned for the love and support of another person, especially a mother figure. She knew she needed guidance and mentoring if she were to ever overcome her past. She tried to stop her crying, but the tears simply wouldn't be stopped. She closed her eyes and gave in to the emotions that she so often tried to hide. Tonight, there would be no pushing them away; they were bubbling up like a geyser. She heard the water being turned off and felt herself being guided back to her seat at the table.

"The streets are… a tough place… to live," Bri hiccupped, explaining away Lexi's behavior. "It makes you want to get other people… before they… they get you."

"Lexi is my daughter and I love her, but I will NOT excuse or justify what she said to you."

Bri lifted the collar of her tee shirt, using it to dry her eyes. "It's okay, Mrs. Lopez. She's mad at… at Mike and… I just happen… to be the one she… she took it out on."

Maria reached for a napkin, handing it to Bri. "Do you have any idea why she's so angry at him? She won't tell me anything."

"Um," Bri stammered. How could she tell Maria the truth? It wasn't her place to tell her that Lexi was sexually involved with one of Marco's friends. "We did talk… a little… and… Well, it's just a big misunderstanding, Mrs. Lopez. I mean… I promised her I wouldn't say anything, but… I will say that Mike is a really… really great man and… Lexi's… I think she's just… I dunno… scared, maybe."

"Scared? Of Michael? No, that can't be it," Maria said, shaking her head. "Why would she be afraid of the man who… who saved her?"

Bri wrapped her arms around her torso, staring at the kitchen table. The Lopez home felt so safe and warm, in spite of Lexi's behavior. She had never felt such caring in her life, not the way Maria made her feel. No matter how hard she tried to keep her thoughts and feelings to herself, she felt as if the older woman was drawing them out of her, and for the first time, she wanted to share them with someone else – someone who might not judge her for what she was saying.

"Mrs. Lopez…"

"Bri… I'm Mama Lopez to almost everybody who knows me… I'm certainly Mama Lopez to you."

Bri felt her shoulders relaxing slightly. She couldn't remember ever calling anyone 'Mama' before. "Um, Mama Lopez… girls like me and Lexi… We… uh… We don't like looking in a mirror. Does that make sense?" She knew it didn't, but she was finding the conversation difficult to get started.

"But, Bri, you and Lexi are beautiful girls. Why would you not like to see your reflection?"

Bri cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the lump that was quickly forming. "It's not what the reflection looks like… We don't like the person who looks back at us."

Maria felt taken aback by Bri's statement. "But you and Lexi… and Beverly… You are all survivors. You've beaten the odds. How can you not like yourselves?"

Bri shifted her red-rimmed eyes to meet the dark eyes of Maria. "Because when you've done the things we've done… When you've been trained to believe that you're worthless… When your brain has been programmed to believe that everything that happens to you – the rapes, the beatings, the…," she shook her head, dropping her gaze back into her lap in shame. "You don't just dislike yourself… We loathe ourselves and… We feel like…," she sniffled again, reaching for another napkin to dry her eyes. "Like we don't deserve to… to be… ha-happy."

"Oh child, but you do… With what you girls have been through, you deserve happiness more than anyone else on earth," Maria consoled, pulling the younger woman into an embrace, grateful when she didn't pull away.

Bri allowed her head to drop onto Maria's shoulder, allowed her hair to be stroked by the wrinkled hand of the older woman. Was this what it felt like to have a mother? She felt Maria kiss her lightly on the top of her head and for a moment, she felt like a small child, safe and secure.

After several long moments, Maria spoke up again. "Do you think that's what's going on with Lexi? She doesn't feel like she deserves to be happy?"

Bri nodded her head. "I think that's… a big part of it. Mike makes her happy and…"

"And she feels unworthy of that kind of attention, so she… she sabotages his efforts?"

Again, Bri nodded her head. "I know it… it sounds crazy, but… I really think that's the… the reason for how she's been… treating Mike… and maybe me, too. It's like she's looking for faults in us… Something that gives her a reason to lash out at us."

"That's no reason to treat you like an enemy," Maria said.

"It is when I tell her the truth," Bri stated, pulling away from the embrace. "I'm one of the few people who will… Being brutally honest is a fault of mine," she said, snickering nervously.

"It's not a fault, child. It's a gift. It seems to me that if you're right… and I believe you really may be on to something here… a little more honesty between Lexi and Michael would be a good thing."

"Probably," Bri smiled. "Guess the dishes have soaked long enough, huh?"

"Probably."

The two women pushed back from the table and headed for the sink to finish what they had started before the impromptu therapy session had taken over.

"Mrs. Lopez?"

"What did you call me?" Maria chided playfully.

"I mean, Mama Lopez… I'd be happy to watch Antonio while you take Lexi to the welfare office tomorrow."

E!

Mike Stoker continued packing his bag for his impending double shift. He meticulously hung up his uniforms, ensuring that the creases were perfect. He carefully folded his undershirts and boxers, adding his socks to the bag last. He reached for his shaving kit, the brown leather bag he had used for several years, and unzipped it, pouring the contents out on his bed. He wanted to ensure that he had what he needed to stay well-groomed while on a 48-hour shift. He tossed his used razor blade into the wastebasket, and retrieved a new one from the drawer in his bathroom. When he returned to his bedroom, his telephone rang.

Mike exhaled loudly, assuming that the caller was Lexi offering an apology. He placed the razor in his toiletry bag, allowing the telephone to continue to ring. He waited until the fourth ring before answering it, trying to decide about accepting her apology.

"Hello."

"Stoker?"

Mike cleared his throat, unprepared for the gruff male voice on the other end of the line.

"Yes, this is Mike."

"Hookraider here. I jus' wanted to make sure you were still available to work a double."

Mike rubbed his tense neck muscles. He had answered the phone fully expecting a sniffling female voice offering an apology that he would've accepted. He stumbled over his words as he mentally shifted gears for the unexpected conversation. "Um, y-yes sir. I'll be there… Getting my bag ready now."

"You're a good man, Stoker. See ya bright an' early in the mornin'."

"Yea, um, I'll see you then," Mike responded, grateful that his voice was sounding more confident.

He hung up the phone, then began his nightly routine to prepare for bed. Maybe Lexi wasn't going to apologize after all. And if she wasn't, then should he? But what would he apologize for?

E!

"SHAZAM!"

"Christopher DeSoto!" Joanne raised her voice at her elder child. "Use your inside voice," she demanded.

"But I'm Captain Marvel," the youngster boasted, proudly propping his fists on his hips and jutting out his slender chest.

"If you keep that noise up, you won't be," she said, returning to the gold lightning bolt she was cutting out of the metallic material she had purchased at the fabric store. "I'll just throw an old sheet over your head and you can be a ghost for Halloween."

"Okay," the boy replied, sulking as he walked past the kitchen table where the material was spread out.

Joanne had purchased enough of the gold material to make the accents for the costumes of both children. She finished cutting out the lightning bolt before carefully folding the leftover material to create wrist cuffs for Christopher and the sash needed for the Isis costume Jennifer had requested. As if on cue, the younger DeSoto sibling ran down the stairs, shouting out her character's famous phrase.

"Oh, Mighty Isis!" the little girl loudly announced her entrance as she neared the final few steps.

"Jennifer-"

"DeSoto!" Roy finished for his wife, coming down the hallway just in time to catch his daughter as she launched herself into the air in her imaginative effort to fly from the second stair. "The winds of zephyr do not blow INSIDE our house," he commented, wrapping one arm around her waist and bracing her chest with the other as she stretched out in a giggle.

Roy saw her reaching her arms out in front of her as if she were flying, so he continued with the pretend game. "Wooosh," he said as he 'flew' his little girl into the kitchen, narrowly missing Joanne as the two made their way into the living room.

Joanne looked up from her task, shaking her head. "Honestly, Roy… Do I need to make you a costume, too?"

"No," he said, gently allowing Jennifer to 'land' in front of the television set beside her brother. "I think Johnny and I will just be mere mortals."

Joanne stood up straighter at the sound of Johnny's name. "Oh… So, you've talked to him, then?"

"Yea, and he agreed to help me take the kids trick-or-treating, so you can hand out candy here," he said with a wink.

Roy, after ensuring that the children were settled, turned and walked back to the kitchen to continue the conversation. "But he wasn't very excited about it," he said in a whisper, not wanting the children to overhear him.

"When will he be back at work?"

Roy picked up the gold lightning bolt, admiring his wife's dedication and creativity. "He'll be back day after tomorrow. Dwyer's going to stay a little late so Johnny can drop his parents off at LAX before coming to the station."

Joanne returned to her task. "When Johnny doesn't get excited about Halloween, there's something really wrong," she murmured. "Is it his parents leaving, or is it the fact that Lily is still in Selma?"

Roy reached for a banana from the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter. "Yes," he answered, taking a bite.

Joanne snickered, returning her sewing scissors to their protective pouch. "I can't wait to see the look on his face when the four of you get back from trick-or-tricking."

E!

Lexi held up the towel as Antonio carefully stepped out of the tub. She patted him dry, then wrapped the over-sized towel around him, giving him a big hug.

"Okay, Ant, let's go put on your pajamas," she said, finger combing her son's damp hair.

The youngster, who normally would have shrugged off the towel and scampered naked down the short hallway to his bedroom, slowly drudged out the bathroom door with his head hung down still covered in the towel. Lexi followed behind him, worried by his demeanor. She watched as he walked into his bedroom, slowly opening the dresser drawer where his pajamas lay neatly folded.

"Which ones do you want to wear?" she asked.

"I don't care," the child mumbled, staring at the colorful nightclothes in his drawer.

Lexi once again felt his forehead. "How's your tummy feeling?"

"It's not feelin' so good, but…," he hesitated, cocking his head to one side as he looked up at his mother. "It'd feel lots better if I slept in your bed."

Lexi lifted one eyebrow. "Oh, it would, huh?"

"Uh-huh, and I bet it wouldn't hurt at all in the mornin', and I'd be able to eat a big breakfast when I wake up, if I could jus' wake up in your bed."

The young mother, feeling more confident that she knew what was wrong with her son, reached into the drawer, removing his red pajamas and white briefs. As she helped him get dressed, she chose her words carefully. "I don't know, Ant. Maybe I need to take you to the doctor tomorrow. It might take some medicine, or maybe a shot to make that tummy ache go away."

"Noooo, I jus' need to sleep in your bed. That's all. I don't need no medicine and no shot, I promise."

"Are you sure?" she queried, pulling the pajama shirt over his head.

"Yea," the child responded, fervently nodding his head. "I'm real sure." He grabbed his mother's hand, pulling her towards the door of his bedroom. "C'mon, Momma, I'll show you how much better my tummy will feel. It'll make me feel all better."

"Better than the doctor can make you feel?" she asked, following him to her bedroom.

"Uh-huh," he replied, pulling back the covers on her bed and crawling in. He quickly pulled the covers up to his chin. "I'm feelin' better a'ready," he added, pulling his hands from beneath the covers and patting his belly. "See… It doesn't hurt."

"Oh, so you can go back to your bed then, right?" Lexi suggested, removing an oversized tee shirt from her own dresser. She turned her back to him so he wouldn't see her fighting not to laugh at him. She knew how he would respond.

Realizing his mistake, the little boy quickly responded. "Grandma always says we hafta be safe 'stead o' sorry. I think my tummy should jus' stay here with you tonight, right, Momma? Then it won't feel sorry."

Lexi choked back a chuckle. "I think that's a pretty good idea, but I need to go get ready for bed. Do you think your tummy will be okay for just a few minutes, until I come back?"

"Uh-huh," he said, yawning as he snuggled down into the bed. He had managed to secure his place in his mother's bed for the night, giving him the reassurance he needed that she wasn't going to leave him.

Lexi turned on the lamp beside her bed before turning off the overhead light. "I'll be right back."

"I love you, Momma," he replied, his eyelids growing heavy.

"I love you, too, my sweet boy," Lexi whispered, seeing his eyes drifting closed as she quietly closed her bedroom door. When she looked up, she saw Bri rushing into her room. She opened her mouth to offer an apology, but Bri was too fast. Lexi heard the door lock clicking and knew that there was no need to try to talk to Bri tonight. The apology would have to wait until morning.

She stepped into the bathroom, staring at her face in the mirror. Tomorrow she would have to apologize to both Bri and Michael, plus she would be applying for welfare. She was going to be a burden to taxpayers, something that made her feel sick to her stomach. And to top it all off, her son was so afraid of her leaving him again that he was afraid to sleep in his own bed. "Damn it, Lex," she mumbled to herself. "Maybe Ricardo was right… Maybe there really is only one thing you're any good at."

E!

Mike pulled into the parking lot behind Station 51 at 0730. He hadn't slept well the night before, for the second night in a row, and now he was starting a 48-hour shift. He groaned as he stepped out of his pick-up truck, shouldering his bag as he headed for the locker room. He could smell the scent of fresh coffee and knew he would be needing a lot of it before he clocked out on Friday morning.

"Mornin', Stoker," Captain Hookraider called out. "Coffee's fresh an' hot."

"Good… I need it," he called out, pushing through the locker room door.

He quickly changed into his uniform, then headed for the kitchen. He needed a strong cup of caffeine and he knew the B-shift engineer was ready to head home. By the time the rest of the C-shift crew had arrived, he had already downed two cups of rich black coffee. He set his cup in the sink and headed for roll call just as the klaxons sounded calling the station out to a traffic accident.

The lanky engineer donned his turnout coat and helmet, then climbed in behind the wheel of the engine. Right now, being a fireman and especially an engineer was the only thing he felt confident in. He closed his door as the bay door rose and the shift captain climbed into position. He pulled the engine out, following the squad as they rushed to the scene. He was grateful that his mind was wired in such a way that he was able to focus on the job at hand instead of his personal circumstances. Victims needed his full attention, and so did his crew. They depended on him to keep them safe and supplied with the water pressure needed to handle whatever they might encounter. Leaving thoughts of Lexi behind when he stepped into the engine was just the respite his weary heart needed.

E!

Lexi cast a glance toward the stairway in her childhood home. She hated leaving Antonio while he was sleeping, but she didn't want to wake him. He had been sleeping so well when she got dressed that he never even stirred. She looked at the wall clock near the front door. She and her mother had to leave now if they were going to make it to the welfare office for her appointment.

"He'll be fine, Lexi. I promise to take good care of him," Bri commented, fully expecting a snappy response.

"I know… and…" Lexi knew she needed to apologize for what she had said the night before, but the words seemed to be stuck in her throat. She cleared her throat to try to get the words out just as her mother entered the room.

"Okay, I left the scrambled eggs on the stove. Ant should get up soon and he's always hungry," Maria added, reaching for her purse.

"He's a growing boy," Bri commented, trying to lighten the mood. She thought of the child she had miscarried after Ricardo had assaulted her. Had the baby survived, he would be a few weeks old now. She felt the back of her throat begin to burn.

"Bri?"

"Oh, um, yes?" Bri answered, jerking her head up at the sound of Maria's voice.

"Are you okay, dear?"

"Um, yes, I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"Just that we'll be back in a couple of hours," Maria responded. She could tell by the demeanor of Lexi and Bri that there had been no apology – a fact that infuriated her.

"MOMMA!" came a child's cry from upstairs, followed by the padding of feet heading down the stairs.

"I'm right here, sweetie!" Lexi called out, rushing to meet him as he came down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Remember that Momma is going to the welfare office and you're going to stay with Bri, okay?"

Antonio wrapped his arms around her neck. "Are you… comin' back?"

"Yes, of course I am. I'm never leaving you. We talked about this, remember?"

"Uh-huh," he responded, releasing her from the hug.

Bri walked over to the place where mother and son were standing. "Ant, you and I are gonna play and have a great time. Your momma and grandma will be back before you know it."

"How's your tummy feeling?" Lexi asked.

The little boy pulled up his shirt, rubbing his belly. "It feels okay for now, but I think it might get sick again if you stay away too long."

"Well, I'll be back before it starts hurting. And grandma left you some eggs in the kitchen so why don't you and Bri go eat?"

Lexi looked over at Bri, but the other woman never returned her gaze. Instead, Bri reached for Antonio's hand, which he quickly accepted, leaving Lexi with a slight ache in her heart.

"We're going to be late," Maria reminded her.

"Okay… I'm ready," Lexi sighed.

E!

An hour later, Bri had fed Antonio, helped him get dressed and brush his teeth, and had cleaned up the kitchen. When she walked into the living room, she found the little boy curled up on the sofa watching television.

"Is your stomach feeling okay?" she asked, concerned about the child entrusted into her care for the morning.

"Uh-huh… but…," he hesitated, rolling over to look at her. "Will you play with me?"

"Of course… What do you want to play?"

He pressed a pudgy index finger to his chin. "Ummm, how 'bout hide and go peek?"

"You mean, hide and go seek?"

"Yea, do you know how to play?" he asked.

"I sure do," Bri responded with a grin.

"You mean, that game was here when you were a kid?" he asked, wide-eyed.

"Yep… That's an old game. I bet it was even around when your grandma was a little girl?"

Antonio's brown eyes lit up. "You mean, Grandma was a little girl once upon a time?"

"That's right. All kids grow up. One day, you are going to grow up to be a big strong man just like your Uncle Marco."

Antonio's amazement continued to be displayed on his innocent round face. "And like Mr. Mike, too?"

Bri felt a slight lump form in her throat at the sound of Mike's name. It was obvious that Antonio was crazy about him. Why couldn't Lexi see where she had gone wrong? Bri looked at the little boy who was still waiting for an answer. She nodded her head in affirmation.

"Yeah!" Antonio squealed, pumping his little fists into the air. His energy level increased exponentially and he jumped up, bouncing on the sofa.

"Whoa, you better not jump on the furniture. I don't think your Momma or your grandma would like that."

The little boy complied with her request and plopped down on his rear end. "Okay, then can we play the game now?"

Bri closed her eyes tightly. "Okay, I'll count to ten and you go hide… One… Two… Three…"

Antonio tiptoed to his favorite hiding place – the hall closet. He quietly opened the door and stepped inside, unaware of the squeaking noise the old hinges made as he pulled the door closed. He sat down with his knees pulled up, fighting his desire to giggle. He didn't want Bri to hear him.

"Ready or not, here I come!" Bri called out. She knew exactly where he was hiding, but she kept prolonging the game by loudly calling his name and pretending to search for him. "Hmmm, if I were a little boy, where would I hide?" she said out loud.

Antonio, snickered into his hands, happy with his choice of a hiding place.

After allowing the game to go on for several long minutes, Bri finally decided it was time to 'find' him. "I know… I bet you're hiding in the hallway somewhere." She slowly walked closer and closer to the hall closet.

Antonio, deciding to jump out and scare her, reached for the doorknob and turned it at the same moment that Bri did – and they both heard a spring pop in the locking mechanism.

"Oh no," she mumbled, trying to turn the knob to open the door, but the knob just turned around and around in her hands. Fear gripped her, squeezing the air out of her lungs for a moment.

Inside the dark closet, Antonio was trying to open the door, but he too, was unable to make the doorknob mechanism catch. "I stuck!" he whimpered, slapping his hands against the antique wooden door. "Lemme out, p'ease!" he cried.

With panicky movements, Bri continued spinning the doorknob. "No… No!" she cried. "I'm trying Antonio, but it won't open. It's okay, though. Aunt Bri is gonna get you out, I promise," she wept, hoping she wasn't lying. "C'mon," she mumbled, jerking on the doorknob. "Shit!"

Inside, Antonio stood with both hands on the useless doorknob, but he had overheard her swearing and felt the need to chastise her. "Oooo, Aunt Bri… you said a bad word."

"I know, sweetie. I'm sorry," she said, still tugging and pulling on the door. "It's gonna be okay… It's gonna be alright."

"Get me out o' here, p'ease!" he begged, his anxiety level rising rapidly. "I'm scared… I wan' my Mommaaa!"

E!

Mike backed the engine into its usual spot at the station. The first call had been quickly followed by a second automobile accident, and he was grateful to be back in quarters. He needed another cup of coffee, and since he had been assigned kitchen duty, he also needed to see what was available for a quick lunch.

He stepped out of the engine, peeling off his turnout coat and draping it across the front bumper so it would be ready for the next call. He headed for the kitchen, but just as he planted his flattened palm on the kitchen door, the klaxons sounded.

"Station 51, child trapped…"

Mike reversed his steps, jogging to the engine, but when Sam Lanier called out the street address, his heart leaped into his throat. "Antonio," he mumbled to himself and a fresh surge of adrenaline rushed through his veins. The bay door rose and the squad pulled out into the street with Mike expertly navigating the engine closely behind. The engineer's personal life was about to intersect with his professional life in a way he could never have imagined.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Maria Lopez turned the car onto her street, worried by how silent her daughter had been since leaving the welfare office. "Well, that didn't take as long as we thought."

"It was still humiliating," Lexi grumbled, raking her hand through her long dark tresses as her mother turned into their driveway. She offered a soft snort at the thought of her having any dignity left after the tawdry life she had lived for the last five years.

In the distance, both women heard the wailing of sirens. Instinctively, Maria made the sign of the cross for whomever was in need, and silently prayed for the safety of those responding. As they walked closer to the porch, they heard Bri's frantic voice coming from inside their residence. Lexi screamed, scrambling up the steps and pulling open the front door, followed by Maria who caught a glimpse of Squad 51 turning onto their street.

"Oh, Dios mio," the older woman muttered, rushing as quickly as her rotund body would allow.

Lexi's wide eyes scanned the living room, immediately finding Bri on her knees at the hall closet, weeping. "What the hell's going on? What have you done?" she cried out. "ANTONIO?"

"I'm sorry, Lex. We were playing hide-and-seek and, and…" Bri stammered, seeing the angry eyes of Lexi glaring at her.

"You locked my son in a closet? What's wrong with you?" the young mother questioned, twisting the broken doorknob.

"MOMMMAAA!"

Bri tried to explain what happened while also comforting Antonio as best she could. "No, Lexi… the doorknob is broken and… Ant? Ant, the firemen are here; they'll get you out. It'll be-." Before she could complete her sentence, she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head. "Arrgh!" she screamed as her hair was violently jerked backwards. Bri slapped around behind her head, trying to break the hold Lexi had on her hair as she was dragged backwards.

"LEXI, STOP IT!" Maria called out, rushing to the place where the two younger women were fighting.

When the paramedics entered the residence, they dropped their equipment, yelling for assistance as they searched for their victim.

"CAP?" Dwyer called over his shoulder.

"NEED SOME HELP IN HERE," yelled his partner to the rest of the station crew.

Lexi was holding a handful of Bri's hair, using her free hand to drag her back towards the living room. In the melee, Maria managed to quickly explain to the paramedics that her grandson was trapped in the closet. Captain Hookraider grabbed Lexi's arms while the linemen joined in trying to break up the fight between the two young women. Mike waited nervously on the front porch, having to stand guard over the rigs, but desperately wanting to know what was wrong with Antonio.

"Help my baby!" Lexi screamed, as the linemen parted the two women.

"I'm sorry," Bri cried, feeling strong arms pulling her towards the front door. She recognized the tall fireman standing on the porch and collapsed into his arms.

"Stoker, try to calm her down, will ya? We got a kid stuck in a closet in here," Hookraider ordered, unaware of his engineer's connection to the dueling duo.

"I didn't mean to, Mike," Bri cried. "We were just playing and… and the doorknob broke… and…"

"Sshhh," the engineer soothed. "We'll get him out."

Inside the residence, Lexi was in hysterics, being held away from the closet by the junior medic while Dwyer tried to assess Antonio's condition through the locked door. One of the linemen retrieved the necessary tools from the engine and within a couple of minutes, the door had been removed from its hinges and the little boy shot out of the dark closet into the waiting arms of his crying mother.

"Oh, my baby… are you okay?" she asked as the youngster wrapped his arms and legs around her.

"Ma'am, let us check him out, alright? Can you bring him over to the sofa?" Dwyer asked, knowing that the child was probably more frightened than hurt, but he needed to make sure. He saw her struggle to stand up with Antonio wrapped around her torso, so the paramedic held onto her elbow to guide her towards the living room. "You can hold him while we look him over."

Lexi sat down on the edge of the sofa, her heart breaking as her son sniffled into her ear, his head resting on her shoulder. She had only left him for a short time, and this had happened.

"Hey, buddy, let me take a look at your eyes with my little light," Dwyer said, using his best kid-friendly voice. "I've got some far-out gadgets that you can play with while we look at you."

While the linemen carried the closet door onto the back porch so as not to pose a danger to the residents, Vince walked into the house. Maria sat down with the uniformed officer and Captain Hookraider to help make out the report. Lexi brushed Antonio's hair out of his eyes, drying his tears while the two paramedics gave him a thorough examination. But when she looked onto the front porch, she saw a sight that made her blood boil. There was Bri being comforted in the arms of Mike Stoker. Why was he here? He wasn't supposed to be on shift. Then everything began to fall into place for her. Bri had offered to babysit. Had she known that Mike was working? And if so, had she intentionally locked Antonio in the closet so she could call Station 51 for help?

"I think he's fine, ma'am. He's just had a pretty exciting morning. If you see anything unusual, just take him to see his pediatrician… Ma'am?"

Lexi only responded when Dwyer tapped her shoulder. "Ma'am?"

"Oh, what?"

Dwyer repeated his instructions as he and his partner packed up their gear. When he realized that Lexi was staring out the front door, his eyes followed her gaze. He saw Mike who was obviously consoling the other young woman as they were talking to someone outside. He briefly wondered about the dynamics of the situation. As he stood up, he saw Mike and Bri shifting to let another couple get on the porch. Quickly the front door opened and a familiar face rushed inside.

The senior paramedic looked up. "Marco, how's it going?" Dwyer asked, extending his free hand.

"Mike said Antonio got stuck in the hall closet," Marco commented, sitting on the arm of the sofa beside his nephew and sister. "Are you okay, Ant?"

"I got stuck, Meeko," the child sniffled.

"What were you doing in the closet?" Marco asked just as Beverly walked through the front door.

"Isn't it obvious?" Lexi spat out sarcastically, nodding her head in the direction of the porch. "She locked him up so she could call Michael to come be the hero."

Beverly spoke up. "That's not what Bri said."

"Oh, so you're gonna take her side? You weren't even here!" Lexi shot back.

"Well, neither were you!" Beverly countered, needing to stop Lexi's erroneous thought processes. Feeling her frustration at Lexi growing, she turned her attention to Antonio. "Sweetie, can you tell Aunt Beverly what happened?"

"Uh-huh," he said, sitting up straighter now that everyone's attention was focused on him. "I was hidin' from Aunt Bri, an'-"

"WHAT?" Lexi shouted. "What did she do to you, Ant?"

"Nothin', Momma. We was jus' playin' hide-and-sp, um, seek," the child said, trying hard to pronounce the phrase correctly. "An' I was jus' gonna hide in the closet an'… an' the door got stuck." Fearing he had done something wrong, he quickly changed the subject. "An'… an' she said a BAD word."

On the porch, Mike walked Bri to one of the rocking chairs, helping her to sit down.

"See, he's fine," the engineer consoled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

"But Lexi isn't," Bri sniffled, running her fingers beneath her eyes to dry her tears. "She hates me."

Mike sighed, taking a quick glance into the living room and seeing Lexi's dark eyes shooting daggers at him. "Yea… I know the feeling." He continued his efforts of consolation for several long moments, to no avail.

Both of them turned as the front door opened and the rest of the station crew, along with Vince and Mrs. Lopez, exited the house.

"Let's roll, Stoker," the gruff captain announced, unnecessarily.

"I've got to go," Mike said. "It'll all work out, Bri. Just take a few deep breaths and give her some time to cool off."

"What are you gonna do?"

Mike's blue eyes darkened at Bri's question. He knew she was asking about his relationship with Lexi. He shrugged his shoulders as he turned to walk away. "Nothing… nothing at all."

Mrs. Lopez stood on the porch watching as the first responders drove away. She ran her fingers across her forehead, tufts of her long salt and pepper colored hair had loosened from her braid and were blowing in the gentle morning breeze. Bri noticed how her face appeared more wrinkled after the shock of coming home to the fire department responding to her house. Guilt cloaked Bri and she felt an even stronger need to leave the Lopez residence as soon as possible. She had caused enough damage for a lifetime. Being familiar with the homeless shelters in town, she knew that she would need to get going soon. It was a long walk to downtown LA and with only $12.50, she couldn't afford to squander it on the luxury of a bus ride. She was about to stand up when Mrs. Lopez turned to look at her, offering her a semblance of a smile.

"Give them a few more minutes, please," she said, nodding her head towards the front door.

"I need to leave, Mrs. Lopez," Bri explained, not using the term of endearment that Maria had requested the night before. Bri knew she had made a mess of things, and no longer felt that referring to Maria as Mama Lopez was appropriate.

"Nonsense, child. Marco and Beverly are talking to Lexi now. Give them a chance to help her before you leave. Besides, where will you go?"

"Home with me," Beverly said, pushing through the screened door, having overheard the question.

"No," Bri responded quickly. "I've caused enough problems for you all. I'm not going to intrude on you, too."

"You are not an intrusion. I'm inviting you to be my houseguest." The tone of Beverly's voice let Bri know that it really wasn't an invitation she could refuse.

"I know what you're doing, Beverly. Yes, I'm a high risk for returning to prostitution if I'm homeless and hungry. And, yes, I know that wouldn't look good for you or for the stats for the Wellhouse."

"Hold it right there, Bri," the counselor said, sternly. "This has nothing to do with me or the Wellhouse stats, as you put it. Most women I rescue go back a few times before they make a clean break, so that's nothing new. Drop the attitude, Bri. We're not at the Wellhouse and I'm not your counselor. I'm your friend asking you to please come stay with me for a few days. That's all I'm asking for."

Mrs. Lopez looked at the hurting young woman sitting beside her. Her heart was breaking, but she knew that Bri and Lexi couldn't remain in the same house, at least not for a while. "Please?" the older woman asked, holding her breath. She didn't think her heart could stand it if Bri were to return to her former life.

"Only if you'll let me do something to earn my keep."

"I'm sure I can find a few dishes for you to wash," Beverly said with a snicker, relief evident in her voice.

"At least you don't have a kid I can trap in a closet," Bri offered, unaware of how her attempt to lighten the mood was a stinging blow to Beverly.

Beverly fought past the ache in her heart that hadn't entirely gone away since learning that she hadn't been pregnant. She knew that Bri hadn't meant to hurt her, but that didn't lessen the pain. She also knew that Bri had felt the pain of losing a pregnancy at the hands of Ricardo and the older woman felt even more protective of her. They really had more in common than just their lives in prostitution. Neither of them had family, and both had known the loss of a child they never got to hold. Beverly thought about the days she had spent thinking that she might be pregnant with Marco's child. Secretly, she had really wanted to be pregnant, but she wasn't. Those thoughts sent her mind back to the time when she really had been pregnant, when she was a sixteen-year old prostitute. She shuttered, rubbing her arms to remove the goosebumps before anyone else saw them. She had never told anyone about that time in her life – not even Marco.

Beverly directed her next comment at Mrs. Lopez. "Marco is going to drive us to my apartment, then he's coming back here to stay with you tonight. He's going to try to put the door back on the closet and replace the doorknob with one that won't lock."

Maria released an audible sigh. She didn't think she could handle Lexi alone, and she knew that Antonio was going to need a little extra attention after his morning ordeal. Truthfully, Maria Lopez was exhausted from the effort of helping Lexi return to a normal life and from raising Antonio. "Gracias."

"C'mon, Bri… Let's go get your things," Beverly said, feeling the need to escort the younger woman through the living room and protect her from the flaming verbal barbs Lexi might throw her way.

E!

Mike drove back to the station on autopilot. His body knew exactly what to do without even engaging his mind in the familiar activity. Unfortunately, that left him with time to think about what he had just witnessed. It was obvious to everyone at the scene that the incident had been an unfortunate accident, but Lexi had lashed out at Bri in a way Mike hadn't even known was possible. He wondered how he would handle a situation where she did that to him? Could he deal with a woman who lost control like that? He had gotten a couple of tiny glimpses of what she was capable of – first, when she dropped Hunley to his knees with a well-aimed kick to the groin during the personnel hearing, and more recently in the restaurant that day, but she hadn't been physically aggressive towards him… not yet. He knew he would never strike a woman, but if she ever assaulted him the way she had Bri… He had tried to get her attention from his post outside the Lopez home, but she ignored him, even after being reassured that her son was fine. He had wanted to talk to Antonio, too, but Bri had been so upset that he felt the need to calm her. No one had seemed too concerned about her. All attention had been focused on Lexi and Antonio. He thought about how grateful Bri had seemed to be when he held her, reassuring her that everything would be okay. Then he remembered the look on Lexi's face when she had seen them. He recalled how Lexi's dark eyes had seemed to flash over when Bri laid her head on his chest. Why would she do that? Then another thought crossed his mind… Was Lexi jealous? No. He dismissed that thought just as quickly as it had formed. Lexi was angry at him for something, he just wasn't exactly sure what it was that had set her off that day in the restaurant. He knew she didn't like the fact that he and Marco had been discussing intimate issues related to her, but…

"You gonna get out or jus' wait there for the next run, Stoker?"

Mike was jolted back to reality by the gravelly voice of his current captain. He looked around, seeing the older man standing between the squad and the engine; everyone else had already departed the vehicles.

"Sorry, Cap," the engineer said, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

"Phone's for you, Mike," the senior lineman called out, holding open the dayroom door.

"Coming," the quiet engineer responded, stepping down quickly and doffing his turnout coat. Once again, he draped it over the bumper of the engine, ready to be donned when the next call sounded. His long strides carried him around the front of the squad and into the common area. He wondered briefly if the call might be from Lexi, and if so… how was he going to respond? He put the receiver to his ear, turning his back to the rest of the crew.

"Fireman Stoker," he spoke into the receiver.

"Mr. Stoker, this is Margaret at the District Attorney's office. Would you be available to meet with the DA on Friday morning at 10:00 am? This is related to the Hunley and Gomez cases," the disembodied female voice said.

"Oh, um, yea… Yes ma'am, I'll be working off shift that morning so unless we have a major incident before shift change, I should be able to be there."

"Thank you, Mr. Stoker. I'll let Mr. Nordon know of your availability. He'll see you then."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

Mike hung up the phone, his mind reeling. Why would the District Attorney want to discuss those two cases with him? Was he going to be called on to testify at their trials? His stomach churned. He hated both men, especially Hunley. The former arson investigator represented everything Mike Stoker and the LA County Fire Department opposed. He thought of everything Hunley had put Bri and himself through, and he only knew a tiny portion of what the young woman had actually suffered at the hands of the monster. Then he thought about Ricardo Gomez. The pain he had inflicted on both Bri and Lexi was unimaginable. He had even tried to kill Lexi after torturing her in her apartment. If Mike hadn't been outside of her building that night, Lexi might be dead and Antonio would never have gotten to meet his mother, and the Lopez family would never have been reunited. He swallowed hard. If he was going to be called on to testify, then like it or not, he needed to talk to Lexi. How much would she want him to say? Even though they weren't speaking to each other at the moment, he still had enough respect for her that he wouldn't disclose anything she didn't want him to tell.

"Chow's on, Stoker," Dwyer called out, placing a loaf of bread on the table for the sandwiches they would be consuming. There had been no time to prepare a cooked meal.

Mike turned around to see the rest of the crew taking their seats. "Thanks," he said, in his typical Stoker one-word response.

E!

Bri shouldered her purse and backpack while Beverly carried her other bag. The two walked down the stairs, heading for the front door. Antonio jumped from his mother's lap and ran to hug the two women.

"When are you comin' back?" he asked, Bri.

Bri knelt down beside him, kissing him gently on top of his head. "I'm not sure," she said, not knowing what else to say. She looked into his innocent eyes, wondering if her baby might have looked at her with similar eyes if the child had lived.

Beverly quickly interjected herself into the difficult conversation. "Aunt Bri is going to help me with wedding plans. And…," she hesitated for dramatic effect. "I have a special favor to ask you, young man."

"Me?" Antonio asked, wide-eyed.

"Yep," the counselor replied. "Will you be the ringbearer at our wedding?"

"YEAH!" the child squealed. "I will, I will… Um… what's a wing bear?"

"Ringbearer," Lexi corrected. "It's a very important job. It means you have to carry the rings down the aisle and hold them on a pillow until the priest asks for them during the wedding."

"Do I got to do it all by myself?"

Marco spoke up next. "That part is all up to you, Ant, but we're hoping we might be able to find a pretty little girl to carry flowers and walk with you."

The little boy raised his shoulders up to his ears, giggling. "Corrie!"

"Why I think that's a wonderful idea, don't you, Bev?" Marco asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I do, indeed. Will you talk to Chet tomorrow?"

While the three of them continued their conversation, Lexi looked on, refusing to look at Bri. She was beginning to feel twinges of guilt for how she had reacted earlier, but she just couldn't bring herself to tell the other woman how she felt. Bri stood up, once more patting the little boy on his head.

"I think the two of you will make a great little couple at the wedding," Bri stated, taking the bag Beverly was holding. "I'll be waiting outside."

Marco shot his sister a concerned look, dismayed when she turned her gaze away from him. "Are you ladies ready?"

"Yes," Beverly replied; she, too, looked at Lexi with angry eyes.

Marco heard his mother bustling about in the kitchen. "Mama, I'll be back in a little while," he called out over his shoulder.

Maria dried her eyes as she walked back into the living room after the trio left the residence. She had no idea what she was going to say to Lexi, but she knew she couldn't do it in front of her grandson. He had been through enough trauma for one day.

Antonio was the first to see her. "Grandma, I'm gonna be a… a…," he knitted his eyebrows together, turning to look at his mother. "What am I gonna be?"

Lexi gave him a wistful smile. "The ringbearer for Marco and Beverly."

"Yea… the wing bear," he proudly boasted to his grandmother.

"What a great honor that will be," she said, exaggerating her expressions. "And do we know when?" she asked, assuming Lexi knew the answer.

"Uh-huh," Antonio responded. "When they get married, silly."

"Oh, well, of course. I don't know why I didn't think of that," she replied, rolling her eyes and grinning. "Antonio, will you watch television for a few minutes while I talk to your momma in the kitchen?"

Lexi huffed, but she knew she didn't have a choice. She didn't wait for her son to answer. She got up and headed for the kitchen, turning on the television set as she passed by.

Maria patted her grandson's leg as he settled into the pillows on the sofa. She trudged across the room, pushing her way through the kitchen door, still unsure of how to begin the conversation.

E!

At her apartment, Beverly said goodbye to Marco, offering him a supportive kiss as she and Bri got out of the car. She knew he had his work cut out for him, dealing with Lexi in her current state of mind.

"I'll call you later," he responded. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Beverly walked up the narrow staircase to her garage apartment, knowing that Marco wouldn't leave until she and Bri were safely inside. She unlocked the door, ushering her charge inside her humble abode.

Bri set her bags down beside the small sofa. "Okay… where are the dishes that need washing," she said, only half joking. She really didn't want to be a burden to her friend.

"We'll have to dirty some up first," Beverly explained, walking to her bedroom.

Bri looked around the sparsely furnished room. It was obvious that there was only one bedroom and no spare bed. She sat down on the lumpy sofa. She had certainly slept in far worse places under much less comfortable circumstances.

Momentarily, Beverly returned. "Okay, there's an empty drawer in my dresser for your things and the bed is large enough for both of us, if you don't mind bunking together," she said with a grin.

"Nope, not going to inconvenience you," Bri said, patting the spot beside her. "This is much better than a lot of places I've slept."

Beverly sat down beside her. "Bri… I want you to make yourself at home… not just for tonight."

"But-"

"Wait," Beverly said, holding up her hand. "You know that Marco and I are getting married soon, next month, actually, and…" Beverly reached for Bri's hand. "I know this isn't much, but I'm going to be moving into Marco's apartment and… This one will be available… so…"

Bri's eyes widened. "You mean, I might be able to take over the lease? I'll need to find a job," she began excitedly. "But I'll try real hard to find work… maybe two jobs… Does the bus stop near here? I'll need transportation."

Beverly was energized by Bri's exuberance. She had already talked to Amy at the Pourhouse and knew that there was a part time job available, but she didn't tell Bri that the job was hers if she wanted it. Amy had been a good friend to the staff at the Wellhouse since the residential facility had opened up. She often allowed women from the shelter to gain valuable work experience by waitressing, cooking, cleaning, or anything else that needed to be done around the diner. Not only was Amy the head waitress, she was also the owner – a fact most people didn't know. She was also a woman who had fallen on hard times during her lifetime, and was more than willing to help those in need. She had been frugal with her money over the years, and could easily leave the business in the capable hands of a manager, but Amy was a hands-on kind of woman. Beverly seemed to be made from the same mold and the two had a great respect for one another.

Beverly got up and walked over to her kitchen table, retrieving the morning paper. "Look at the 'help wanted' section," she said, tossing the paper over to her guest. "While you're doing that, I'll heat up some soup for lunch," Beverly said. "Perhaps we'll go eat dinner at this little diner I know – my treat," Beverly said, setting the stage for a job offer she knew Amy would make if Beverly could get Bri there. Beverly needed to keep Bri busy to keep her mind off her morning with Lexi. Thoughts of Lexi immediately sent her mind to the Lopez household and she couldn't help but wonder how Marco was fairing.

E!

Marco twisted the screw driver, tightening the last screw into the new doorknob on the closet door in the hall of his childhood home. His sister had been hiding in her room after a thorough chastising by their mother and his nephew was taking an afternoon nap. He stood up, surveying his handiwork. Satisfied that the hall closet was now child-safe, he returned to the kitchen to have a late lunch with his mom.

As soon as he pushed through the door, Maria looked up with tired eyes. "All done?"

Marco snickered. "Mama, I'm grown now."

Maria laughed at her choice of words. "I guess I have been taking care of Antonio for a while, haven't I?"

"Well, to answer your first question, yes, I'm, uh…, all done. As for the second… I don't know how much longer he may need you to see about him. Seems my sister can't get her head on straight, can she?"

Maria knew she was being baited, but she needed to let Marco know the truth. "She's paranoid and angry at the world. She thinks Mike and Bri are romantically involved. She thinks Bri locked Antonio in the closet because she knew that Mike was on duty and would respond if she called it in."

"But the spring was broken," Marco countered.

"I know. Nothing I said seemed to make a difference. What are we going to do? This can't go on, Marco," she wept.

"I know, Mama," he replied, patting her hand to offer her some semblance of comfort. He wondered how much to tell her about his own difficulties with Beverly. Deciding she needed to know, he forged ahead. "Um, Beverly and I would like to get married in the backyard at our Thanksgiving gathering, if that's okay with you?"

Grateful for the happier subject, Maria leaned over, smothering him in a hug and kissing him on the cheek. "I can't think of anything I'd be more thankful for," she replied. "What can I do to help get ready for the day?"

Marco saw her question as the perfect opening. "Pray," he replied, looking up with sad dark eyes.

"Pray? I don't understand."

"Beverly and I had a rough day yesterday. It's kind of a long story, but the short version is that I found a graduate school application that she had thrown away. She wants to become a psychologist so she can provide therapy for the ladies at the Wellhouse, but I don't make enough money to pay the tuition and she doesn't want us to go into debt for a doctorate degree. I told her I was going to mail it in anyway and she… she had a meltdown."

"Oh, no."

"Yea… I made her feel like she was… um, being controlled, or something," Marco said shaking his head in dismay at his own behavior. "Looking back on it, it all makes sense, but at the time… I don't know."

"And you need me to pray for the two of you and your relationship?" Maria liked to pray for specific things.

"Not exactly. Um, we're going to see a therapist Friday afternoon. We want to know how to deal with her past before we start our life together. I don't want to do anything that upsets her like that again, and she wants to know how to control her emotions better. Just pray that this doctor will be able to help us."

"I will, son. Beverly has come so far in only a few short years and she's made you so happy," she replied with a twinkle in her eye. "It's written all over your handsome face."

Marco felt his cheeks warming up. "Yes ma'am, she does just that. But I was also thinking that if this therapist is able to help Bev and me, then maybe she can help Lexi, too. She works with women who have been in, um, the life," he said.

"It's okay, Marco. You can call it what it is. I've come to terms with it."

"Yea… Do you think she'll be willing to go?" he asked.

"I think that if you and Beverly talk to her, she just might. She isn't happy, Marco. She isn't even happy when she's with Ant. It's like… like she's lost her soul to that monster, Ricardo. Her coming home was only a temporary improvement. Now…"

As if on cue, the telephone rang.

"I'll get it," Marco stated, seeing his mother's eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Lopez residence." He knitted his eyebrows together in concern when he heard the voice on the other end. "Um, yes ma'am. Just a minute, please." He set the phone down, whispering to his mother. "DA's office for Lexi."

Marco hurried from the kitchen in search of his sister, finding her laying across her bed in her room.

"Hey, sis? Phone's for you… It's the DA's office."

Lexi gasped in concern. "Wha, uh, why?"

Marco shrugged his shoulders, stepping into the hallway to retrieve the upstairs phone for her before leaving her alone to take the call.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Maria knew she should hang up the extension, but she was too worried about her daughter to give her the privacy she deserved. Instead, she listened quietly, growing even more worried by the conversation she was overhearing.

E!

By mid-afternoon, Bri had found a couple of jobs she wanted to apply for. Using a red ink pen, she circled the ads in the 'help wanted' section of the newspaper. The ringing telephone caught her attention.

Beverly, who had been reading a magazine in her favorite chair, stood up and walked to the kitchen to answer the telephone.

"Hello?" the counselor said, assuming the caller was Marco.

"Ms. Marsh, this is Francine at the shelter. Um, the DA's office has been calling here looking for Brittany. I didn't tell them where she was, but I told them I'd get a message to her. Um, Mrs. Lopez told me she was with you," the older woman said softly.

Beverly looked over at her houseguest who was studiously reviewing the same section of newspaper. "Yes, that's right."

"Will you ask her to call Margaret at the DA's office at 555-3998?"

Beverly quickly wrote down the number then said her goodbyes to the housemother. She slowly walked over to the place where Bri was sitting, hoping that whatever news the DA had to share with her wouldn't set the young woman back in her recovery.

E!

At headquarters of the LA County Fire Department, investigator Samford Bennett hung up his phone with a sigh. He had just received word that his presence was requested at the DA's office on Friday at 10:00 am. There was only one fire department case pending with the DA and that was his former supervisory and former assistant chief, Leonard Hunley. The summons had to be related to that case, but it wasn't due to come to trial for a few more months, and Sam assumed that Hunley's lawyer would keep putting it off as long as possible. Was it possible that the charges were being dropped? If so, did that mean that Bri was no longer willing to testify? Icy cold fingers gripped his heart. He hadn't seen Bri since shortly after she had been rescued. Was it possible that the young woman who had so bravely faced Leonard Hunley at Mike Stoker's personnel board hearing was no longer willing to face him again in a court of law? Or even worse… had Bri returned to the streets?

He walked over to his file cabinet, pulling open the second drawer and retrieving the thickest file in the drawer. He opened it up and began reviewing his notes. When he turned the second page, a photograph he recognized stared back at him. It was attached to the statement he had taken from Bri when she was in the hospital recovering from her assault after the first fire – the one that resulted in the loss of her baby. The case had ultimately been traced back to Leonard Hunley and so it was now a part of the case against the former assistant fire chief. He stared into the hopeless face of the battered young woman. He felt an overwhelming desire to protect her, to shield her from the world that had so mistreated her.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, shaking those thoughts from his mind. He had given her his business card but she had made no attempt to contact him. He was sure she had moved on, or simply had no interest in him. He glanced at the name written in neat print beneath her picture – Briana Olivier. He reached into his shirt pocket, removing his pen and clicking it. He drew a thick line through the alias and replaced it with the young woman's real name – Brittany Mendoza.

"Don't go back out there, Bri… Please… don't go back," he muttered to himself as he continued to peruse the file, preparing for whatever the DA had in store for him on Friday morning.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The first rays of sunlight were just beginning to creep into the dorm room of Station 51. Mike's bedsprings squeaked as he rolled over, his full bladder pulling him from his deep sleep. He sat up, unable to delay relieving himself any longer. Quietly, he padded through the locker room and into the privacy of the latrine. While groggily taking care of his business, wake-up tones sounded causing him to flinch.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself, swiping a bit of toilet tissue to clean the mess he had made. Mike quickly completed his morning routine, dressed in a fresh uniform, then headed for the kitchen in search of a bit of liquid energy to help him make it through the next 24 hours.

"Mornin', Stoker," Hookraider said, his rough voice sounding even deeper than usual as he reached for the coffee pot.

"Morning."

Dwyer snickered at the exchange. "Can't you ever say more than one word, Mike?"

The engineer allowed a grin to cross his handsome face as he waited for his chance to pour himself a cup of coffee. "Sometimes."

A round of laughter erupted from the two linemen who were seated at the kitchen table.

"That was great," the senior lineman commented, his face red from laughing.

"Thanks," came the stoic reply as Mike reached for a mug.

Hookraider nearly spit his coffee out when he heard Mike's comment. "Ahua… Ahem… Damn near caused me to choke, Stoker."

"Strangle," Mike corrected, continuing the game. He couldn't help but laugh himself, feeling a sense of relief at the station banter. It was the first time he had laughed in a long time and it felt refreshing.

The junior lineman got up and headed for the refrigerator. "I'm starving, man. Anybody else want some eggs and toast?"

All eyes turned to Mike, knowing that his answer would be brief.

He pressed his lips together, trying hard not to laugh. "Sure."

Another round of side splitting laughter filled the kitchen just as Captain Stanley walked in.

"What'd I miss that's so funny?" Hank asked, stepping over to the kitchen stove. He, like most firemen, was a coffee drinker and he hadn't had a cup, yet.

"Hank, your man here is the most elaborate communicator we've ever encountered," Hookraider explained.

Hank's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He knew that Mike was a very intelligent man, and everyone on A-shift had learned that while Mike Stoker might be quiet, when he did speak, whatever he said was likely to be important. "Elaborate?" Hank quizzed, looking back and forth between Hookraider and Mike.

The C-shift crew burst into laughter again, and anyone who didn't know them would assume they had been imbibing on the job.

"Da-damn, Hank…," Hookraider heaved, pulling out a chair to sit down. He had to find a stable place for his hot coffee before his laughter caused him to spill it. He set the cup on the table before continuing. "Stoker must've rubbed off on you. You sound just like 'im."

Hank looked around at the assembled group. The junior lineman had propped his forearm against the refrigerator, resting his head on it while he laughed. The senior lineman was wiping tears from his eyes. Dwyer and his paramedic partner were hugging their abdomens in uncontrollable giggles and Hookraider's face was redder than it would've been if he'd been fighting a three-alarm fire.

"What the hell's going on, Mike?" Hank questioned, seeing his calm engineer leaning his hips against the counter, coffee cup hovering near his mouth.

Mike looked at the others in the room and quickly searched his brain for a one-word explanation. He was enjoying the joking. "Sarcasm."

The junior lineman cackled, but finally managed to open the refrigerator, removing the carton of eggs and quickly placing it on the counter. "I'm… I'm gonna piss my pants if we don't stop."

"Just don't piss in my eggs," Dwyer said, trying to stand up to help with the breakfast preparations. His sides were aching, but he was enjoying the time with his shiftmates.

Hank blew a cooling breath across his coffee cup while he watched the antics continue. This made the verbal sparring between Chet and Johnny look like child's play. He took a tentative sip, then propped a hand on his hip. "I still don't get it."

Mike pushed himself away from the counter, clapping his usual captain on the shoulder. He felt his lips quivering as he tried to prevent a grin as everyone waited to see what he would say. "Office?" he asked, ushering Hank towards the kitchen door while the rest of the men guffawed.

A brief explanation in the apparatus bay was all it took for Hank to finally understand what he had witnessed.

"They wouldn't say more than one word, either, if they had to work with the twits we work with," Hank laughed, thinking of his two youngest crewmen. "Nobody else even gets a chance to speak most of the time, and that includes me," he snickered.

"Morning, Mike… Cap," Marco called out as he entered the open back bay and pushed his way through the locker room door to change into his uniform.

Mike grimaced. He needed to talk to Marco about Lexi, and he wanted to know if Antonio and Bri were okay. He turned back to his captain. "This is gonna take more than one word," he sighed. "Um, I really need to have a private conversation with Marco about Lexi. Mind if I use your office for a few minutes at some point, if the tones don't drop?"

"Sure, just let Hookraider finish up first and then help yourself. Johnny's gonna be late because he's taking his parents to the airport, so we're not gonna have roll call until after he gets here," Hank replied, slapping Mike on the back. He was curious, but he wasn't one to meddle in the personal affairs of his men unless it impacted their job performance.

E!

The crowds at LAX were not as bad as Johnny had anticipated. He dropped off his parents and their luggage before heading for hourly parking. Half an hour later, their checked bags were loaded and the trio headed for a restaurant for a bite to eat before the Gages needed to board. Sharon was already growing weepy, but she fought valiantly to keep the tears at bay. She didn't want this to be a sad occasion. It was the beginning of a renewed relationship with Johnny and for that, she was grateful.

"Mom, please don't cry," Johnny said as they ambled through the crowded corridors of the airport. "I'm gonna go home for Christmas. That's only a couple o' months away."

"I know, son," she said, looping her arm around his elbow as they walked. "I'm just so… happy."

"Me, too," Johnny said reaching over and patting her hand. "What do you want to eat for breakfast?"

"Just something light. My stomach doesn't handle take offs very well," she commented.

"She's right about that," Roddy piped up, wrapping his arm around his wife's waist. He glanced down at her pretty face, seeing how happy she seemed as she walked between her two favorite men. He wanted the moment to last forever.

As they walked past a tiny airport business, Johnny stopped suddenly. "Ohhh…ah-haha…," he chuckled. "Oh, this is far out!"

"What?" Roddy asked, wondering what his son was looking at. All he saw was a small counter with cheaply made kids toys that were obviously overpriced. What was it about Johnny and airport toys?

Johnny reached for a small container. "This," he said, holding up the can. "Remember what I said I was gonna do to Chet?"

Roddy snickered. "Yea."

"This would be perfect to go with it," he laughed. "I can make this joke go on until his wedding," he mused, turning the can around in his hand. He reached inside his back pocket, withdrawing his wallet. "I better get a few of these… Got to make this prank last," he laughed.

Johnny paid for his items and accepted the white paper bag from the cashier. The grin on his face immediately made Sharon smile, her previous misty eyes replaced by a bright and sunny disposition. Her son really had done well for himself, and under the most difficult of circumstances. She just hoped that his future would be as successful in romance as it had been professionally.

E!

Lily watched as Iris hung up the telephone, unable to read the look on her mother's face. "Um, is everything okay at the flower shop?" she asked, knowing that her mother had been talking to Caroline.

"Oh, yea, it's great. Caroline is doing a fantastic job with Bloomer's."

"Then… what's wrong?" Lily asked, concerned.

Iris looked at her daughter and smiled. "There's nothing wrong, Lily. Caroline was just filling me in on all the plans for the flowers for her wedding and…"

"And?"

Iris offered a soft laugh of happiness. "She asked me to be a bridesmaid."

Lily gave her mother a toothy grin. "Oh, Mom, that's great. She really loves you, you know?"

"I know and… and she's a wonderful friend. I mean, I couldn't have come back here if she hadn't agreed to take over the shop for a while."

Lily enjoyed seeing her mother happy, especially when talking about a friend. Just like Lily, Iris had spent many years with only a few people she could call a friend.

"She's really learned a lot. I think she's doing a great job with planning the flowers for her special day. I agreed to pay for them for her. It's the least I can do. She's…," Iris turned to look out a window. "She's had a hard time."

Lily walked over, wrapping an arm around her mother's waist. "Yea, and so have you. You amaze me, Mom… I… I love you so much."

Iris pulled her daughter into an embrace. "Oh, baby… I love you, too."

For the first time, Lily felt the confidence to tell her mother something that she had been feeling for a while now. "You know who else I love?"

Iris released her daughter, looking into her face. "Yea, I do… You love John, don't you?"

Lily blushed, dropping her gaze briefly. She really did love Johnny, but she wasn't ready to declare her feelings for him just yet, not to her mother. She wasn't sure what the future held for them and she wouldn't know for a few more weeks. "Um… I was gonna say… I think I love Grandma and Grandpa Jones."

"Really?" Iris whispered, the lump in her throat too thick to push additional words past.

Lily nodded in affirmation. "I wanted to hate them ever since I found out what they did to you, but… but they've acknowledged their mistake and… and it really wasn't all their fault. There were… um, extenuating circumstances," she said, thinking of the threats the KKK had made against her and her mother.

"This is the happiest day… I've had in… in a very… long… time," Iris said in a ragged breath. "Well," she said again, correcting the statement. "Almost."

Lily lifted an eyebrow, silently questioning her mother's comment.

Iris tenderly caressed her daughter's cheek, admiring her beauty. "The happiest day of my life was when you were born. And, again when you came back home," she added.

"I'm glad I came down here with you. I… I wasn't sure at first, but… Now I feel like a part of my life that was missing is complete."

"Are you gonna tell 'em?" Iris asked, her former southern accent reappearing.

Lily looked out the window, seeing the debris littering the front yard from the storm the previous night. She thought sheshould go outside and start raking up the leaves and twigs. This place was a part of her heritage. "Maybe… I'm not quite ready just yet, but… I will before we leave."

"Speaking of leaving," Iris began. "I need to call the airport today and go ahead and buy our return tickets. I know we still have a few weeks left, but… We have a surprise party to attend," she laughed, her heart feeling lighter than it had felt since she was a child.

Lily thought about Johnny and how shocked he was going to be. She knew she needed to call him. Today was the day his parents were returning home and then he would be on shift. She needed to hear his voice and vowed to call him tomorrow night. And she hoped that he wanted to talk to her just as much. She wanted to know how his visit with his parents had gone, and she also needed to tell him about her revelations about her maternal grandparents. But then a thought worried her. She sucked in her bottom lip, biting it until she felt a painful pinch. Would Johnny approve of her feelings for her grandparents after everything that had happened in the past? He had encouraged her to talk to them, but would he accept her love for them?

E!

Johnny, having said his heartfelt goodbyes, hurried back to his Rover. He needed to get to the station and relieve Dwyer. His reddened eyes began to sparkle as he thought about the small plastic canister he had tucked away in his duffel bag. The other two remained hidden away in the white bag and tucked underneath the driver's seat. He knew Chet often sneaked into his locker to set up the Phantom's notorious water bombs, but the Irishman knew better than to plunder through the Rover. The evidence of Johnny's future transgressions would be safe in his vehicle.

He turned into the station driveway, parking in his usual spot near the brick wall. Noting that the apparatus bay was empty, so the men were on a run.

"Oh, yea… This is perfect," he snickered, pulling the duffel bag from the passenger's seat and hurrying into the locker room. With a little luck, he would have time to set up the first of many pranks that would put the Phantom's antics to shame.

He set his bag down, digging into it to grab what he needed. He had to be quick, but luckily, this first prank wouldn't take long to get into place. It was merely an introduction, a foreshadowing of what was to come. Unlike Chet, Johnny could be very patient when it came to dishing-out his revenge.

As soon as the joke was set, he carefully tucked away the remaining contents, depositing it into a side pocket on his duffel bag, then set about getting ready for shift. He was just pinning his badge into place when he heard the engine backing into the station. "Show time," he mumbled to himself, pocketing his hands into his pants pockets and meandering out to the engine. Hopefully, Chet would need a clean uniform after their run.

He leaned his lanky frame against the internal brick wall, watching as Mike expertly positioned the engine. The first voice he heard was that of his nemesis.

"Nice to see ya, Gage. Had to wait for the real men to take care of the job before you showed up, huh?" Chet asked, removing his helmet and turnout coat, grinning.

Johnny jerked his disheveled hair in the direction of the empty space where the squad was normally parked. "Looks like the REAL men are still workin'," he snickered in retort.

"Watch it, Gage," Hank replied. "You're outnumbered four to one."

Johnny's lopsided grin wilted. "Aww, c'mon, Cap… You sidin' with your engine against your squad?"

"Haha," Chet shouted, heading for the latrine. He stretched his hand out, pushing open the door, hesitating long enough to send a verbal jab at Johnny. "Nope, it isn't the squad against the engine… It's the Irishmen against the INJUN," he tossed over his shoulder, emphasizing his last word a little too much.

Johnny narrowed his eyes at the retreating form of Chet. "What'd you say?" he asked in a raised voice so as to be heard in the other room.

Mike hopped down out of the cab of the engine. "Hey, Cap?" he called out, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the captain's office.

Hank grimaced at his two men who were jousting on their way into the latrine and figured he'd better follow them. He looked over at the place where Mike and Marco stood and realized what Mike was asking.

"Oh, yea, sure, Mike. Go ahead," he said, turning to follow Johnny into the latrine. "John, let it go, pal and… Chet?"

"Yea, Cap?"

Hank pushed his way into the latrine, noting that his two men were standing facing each other. "I haven't assigned chores yet, so you'll be getting latrine duty for that remark."

Chet knew he had crossed the line. The look on Johnny's face had told him that. He hadn't meant any harm by the comment, but he knew he had been wrong to say it.

"Yessir," the lineman responded, turning towards the row of lockers.

Hank, knowing he needed to separate the two of them, slapped his junior medic on the back. "How about a cup of coffee, John?"

Johnny saw Chet stepping across the room to his locker and he fought his lopsided grin that was trying to make an appearance. "Sure."

Just as Hank and Johnny walked back into the apparatus bay, Roy was shifting the squad into park. Dwyer quickly exited, ready to turn the shift over to Johnny.

Johnny extended a grateful hand to the other paramedic. "Thanks for covering for me, man."

"Anytime," Dwyer replied just as a loud curse sounded from the locker room.

"Aww, SHIT!"

Dwyer rolled his eyes, muttering as he walked toward the locker room to change. "I'm so glad I don't work on A-shift."

Hank turned his attention back to his youngest crew member, noting that the other man was looking like the cat that ate the canary. "John?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows.

Johnny shrugged his shoulders in feigned innocence, tossing his paramedic partner a knowing wink. Roy was leaning over the hood of the squad, his blue eyes nearly twinkling when he realized that Johnny had done something to pay back the Phantom for all his antics.

The locker room door swung open, slamming into the brick wall with enough force to startle Hank. Chet came charging through with a handful of white tissue in his hand.

"What the hell is this, Gage?" he asked, shoving the tissue in front of the younger man's face.

Johnny cast a quick glance at the tissue. "Um, it's called toilet paper. Civilized men use it to wipe their-"

"I know what TP is," the infuriated man shot back, not even realizing that his comment had sounded like another joke about Johnny's heritage.

"Teepee?" Johnny questioned, adding fuel to the fire. He knew that wasn't what Chet had meant by his remark, but he had the Irishman on the proverbial ropes, so he just couldn't stop himself from finishing him off.

Chet's pale face burned crimson red as his blue eyes shot back and forth between Johnny and their superior officer. "Cap… He...," Chet stammered. "He blew his nose in my locker!"

Johnny, remaining cool and calm, offered his reply. "No, I didn't… Besides," he scoffed. "The nose isn't the only body part that produces thick fluid." He bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing as he watched recognition register on the Irishman's face. He could hear Roy snickering behind him, but he dared not look over at his best friend.

"EWW!" Chet yelled, dropping the tissue on the concrete floor. "Damn, Gage! You're disgusting!"

"Not me," Johnny retorted. "Maybe the Phantom needs a girlfriend."

"Looks more like he needs a shot of penicillin," Roy deadpanned.

"Pick it up, Kelly, and now you can mop the apparatus bay when you finish cleaning the latrines," Hank ordered.

"But, Cap…" Chet began, his eyes wide.

"You started it, Kelly," Hank reminded him.

"And it looks like he finished the job, single-handedly," Roy added with a mischievous grin.

"ROY!" Chet argued, feeling the pressure from the other men. "But… I did NOT do that!" he said, pointing at the discarded tissue.

"Pick it up!" Hank repeated, trying hard not to laugh at the predicament Chet was now in.

"But, Cap… I don't even know what it is!"

Roy turned his back on the scene unfolding before him. He was about to lose all control of his laughter, and he knew he needed to retreat to the kitchen.

Johnny saw him leaving and quickly followed him, but he couldn't resist sending his nemesis one more verbal stinger. "You should really talk to the Phantom, Chet," Johnny called out as he watched the lineman bend over and carefully pick up the tissue containing the unknown substance. "He needs to learn the ol' sayin'… No glove, no love… 'Cause the treatment for that's gonna hurt!"

Chet held the tissue up closer to his face, unable to determine exactly what it contained. He couldn't let Johnny have the last word. "Oh, yea? Well, maybe you picked up those little green men as you were flyin' over Area 51 and one of 'em got squished in my locker!"

Johnny's entire body nearly doubled over in laughter. Chet had taken the bait and now the prank was heading exactly where he wanted it to go. "Or maybe the little green men needed to spend some quality alone time in your locker!" he shouted back, pushing open the kitchen door.

"AARGH!" Chet groused, looking to his captain for any offer of assistance. The blank hazel-eyed stare he received told him that he would get no sympathy there.

Inside the captain's office, Mike and Marco were too engrossed in their conversation to pay any attention to what Johnny and Chet were arguing about.

"I don't know what's wrong with my sister, Mike. I really don't." Marco propped one forearm against the filing cabinet, waxing his mustache with the opposite hand. "I mean, why is she being so hateful to you and Bri?"

Mike sighed, rubbing the tension from his neck. "I don't know about Bri, but she's really pissed at me about something… I think it's about you and me talking about… intimate details, you know? But, why Bri?"

"Beats the hell out of me, but… now she's got something else to be concerned about," Marco said.

"Oh?" Mike questioned, his blue eyes searching for an explanation. When Marco didn't immediately respond, he continued. "Well, make that two things, because I got a call yesterday from the DA's office."

Marco's dark eyes narrowed. "What? You too? Lexi has to go down there tomorrow at 10:00am. That's what I was talking about."

Now it was Mike's turn to look shocked. "So do I. That's the main reason I wanted to talk to you. The secretary didn't say anything about Lexi being called in. I thought it was just me. I, uh… I wanted to see if you think Lexi might talk to me before I go? I… I don't know what they want from me, but I'm sure it's about Hunley and Gomez." He lowered his face to the floor as he considered his next statement. "I won't say anything she doesn't want me to reveal, Marco. I don't want to hurt her, or… embarrass her any further."

"That's nice of you, Mike… especially since things haven't been going well between the two of you."

Mike took a seat beside the captain's desk. He rested his forearms on his knees, trying to decide what to do. "Yea… I really… I really thought she would… um, apologize, you know? I mean…," he looked up again. "Hell, I'd apologize, if I knew it would help... But you and I talking about private matters isn't something that I feel like I should apologize for."

"You shouldn't." Marco exhaled loudly, taking a seat beside his engineer. "Speaking of private matters… I wasn't gonna say anything, but… I could really use a friend right now, and… Mike, you're the only one who might understand."

Mike lifted his gaze. He could see that Marco was struggling with something and that worried him. "Are you okay?"

Marco hesitated for a moment but then forged on ahead. "Beverly and I are going to see a therapist tomorrow afternoon. We, uh… We had a misunderstanding and she… She went ballistic, Mike. She had a full-blown panic attack."

"Oh, man… I'm sorry."

"I said something that set her off and…" Marco ran a nervous hand through his dark hair. "She just lost all control. Neither of us want that to happen again so… We're going to see Dr…. Um, I think her name is Dr. Coates, or something like that. She does a lot of work with women like Beverly… and Lexi."

"I hope it goes well," Mike said, sincerely.

"Yea, me too. I don't want to ever see that happen again. Anyway, I talked to Mama about it. She… and now you… are the only other people who know. But, we both think that if Dr. Coates can help us… maybe she can help Lexi, too."

The engineer nodded his head.

"Mike… I know I don't have a right to ask you this, but… Would you consider… maybe… not giving up on Lexi, yet?"

Mike stared at his fingers for several long moments. He swallowed hard before he answered. "I haven't completely given up, Marco. But I think she may have given up on me. She won't talk to me."

Marco nodded his head slowly.

Mike leaned back in his chair. "Will you do something for me, Marco?"

"Of course."

Mike cleared his throat, finding the task more difficult than he had thought. "I, uh… I want to buy Antonio a pair of boots so he can dress up like a cowboy for Halloween. I know Lexi doesn't have any money and I really want to do this for the little tyke. If I buy them, will you take them to him? You don't have to tell Lexi and Ant that I bought them. You can just tell them that… that they're from you, or something." Mike felt the back of his eyes beginning to sting so he turned away. "I just want that little boy to get what he wants so badly."

Mike felt the lump in his throat bulging, nearly choking off his breathing. He remembered that cowboy boots weren't the only things Antonio had asked for. He also wanted a daddy. At least Mike could make one of the child's wishes come true.

E!

Bri stared at the waitress uniform hanging on the back of Beverly's bedroom door. She still couldn't believe her luck. Last night, when she and Beverly had gone to the Pourhouse for dinner, the head waitress – an older lady whose name was Amy – had asked them if they knew anyone looking for work. One of her waitresses was moving and today would be her last day. Bri had quickly volunteered to go to work and Amy had readily agreed. Bri sat staring at the dress. It was not an attractive uniform, but it covered all the parts that she needed covered, and then some. For the first time in her life, she was going to be doing honest work for honest pay. And if it all worked out, she might even be able to afford this apartment when Beverly moved out. She hoped she could learn everything quickly. She hadn't finished high school and she wasn't necessarily smart. She might not have been able to finish, even if she hadn't run away from home. She felt butterflies in her stomach as she thought about her first day on the job. Beverly had told Amy about the appointment with the DA, and Amy had agreed for her to work the afternoon shift. That thought sent her mind in a different direction. Why had the DA wanted to meet with her? Had she done something wrong that she didn't even know about?

"Bri?"

"Oh, um, yea?" she called out, walking into the kitchen. "Need help with something?"

Beverly motioned for her to take a seat at the small table in the kitchen where she had a cup of coffee waiting for the younger woman. "No, I just wanted to fill you in on what's going to happen tomorrow."

"At the DA's office or the diner?"

"At the DA's office," Beverly said, encouraged by Bri's obvious excitement about her first job. "I called in a favor from a friend of mine who works there. I wanted to prepare you for something."

"What?" Bri asked, worriedly, wrapping her hands around the mug.

"You won't be the only person who will be there. Lexi and Mike will be there, too. And there may be someone else there from the Fire Department; my friend wasn't sure."

"Lexi?" Bri grimaced. She didn't mind Mike's presence, but she was not looking forward to seeing her former best friend. "Do you have any idea why they want to talk to us?"

"I'm not sure, but usually when they call in victims for a meeting, it's because the defendant wants to offer a plea and they want to know if you all will want to take the deal… but I really don't know."

Bri rested her head in her hands. "I just want all this to be over with," she groaned. "Nothing is gonna change what's happened…"

"No, but we can make sure that they get punished, AND," she added, with emphasis. "That this NEVER happens again to anyone else."

Bri rubbed her hands together, nervously, her fingers suddenly feeling icy. "They won't be punished, Beverly. Lexi and I are just a couple o' street walkers. We don't matter to the DA."

"NO," Beverly said, forcefully. She had to stop Bri's negative thought spiral. "You and Lexi were victims and you DO matter… Every soul on this earth matters."

Bri looked over at her new friend, her eyes had lost their earlier vitality. "I don't feel like I have a soul."

E!

By the time the B-shift arrived for duty on Friday morning, Mike's stomach was in knots. He had no idea why he and Lexi were being summoned to the DA's office. He glanced at his watch, realizing that his replacement would be arriving any minute. He prayed the klaxons would stay silent for just a little longer. If he got to leave the station on time, then he might be able to purchase Antonio's boots before the meeting. Marco had encouraged him to give the boots to Lexi, but Mike didn't think she would accept them. If she refused, Marco had agreed to take them to Antonio himself. It was a dirty trick, but both men knew that if Antonio had the boots in his hands, Lexi wouldn't make him give them back.

"Carter's here," Marco said, pulling Mike out of his thoughts. "I'm heading out. I'll be taking Lexi to the DA's office for the appointment so I'll, uh, I'll see you there."

"Thanks," Mike said softly. "I'm leaving just as soon as I can. Hopefully, I'll be able to find the boots in Antonio's size and bring them with me to the appointment. Still think I should give them to Lexi?"

Marco leaned against his closed locker door, staring at the forlorn look on his engineer's face. "Yes… I really do. And if she rejects them, then I promise that I'll give them to him myself, Mike."

Mike merely nodded, hanging his head. When the locker room door opened, the B-shift engineer walked in.

"Morning, fellas."

Both Mike and Marco offered their greetings. Marco exited while Mike filled in the on-coming engineer on the specifics he would need to know for the next shift. As soon as that was done, Mike grabbed his duffel bag and headed for his truck. This was going to be a very interesting morning.

E!

Lexi picked at her eggs, her head throbbing. She reached for her coffee just as her mother walked into the kitchen.

"Lexi? You've been up for a while, haven't you?" Maria asked, surprised that her daughter had already made breakfast.

"I couldn't sleep… Figured I'd make myself useful," she said, her face downtrodden. She sighed, circling the rim of her coffee cup with her finger, absentmindedly. "My life is so screwed up."

Maria poured herself a cup, tightened the tie on her robe, then took a seat beside Lexi. She reached out, patting her daughter's arm. "No, sweetheart… Your life is just beginning to get straightened out. It'll take time, but your family will be with you every step of the way."

Lexi curled a few strands of mussed up hair behind her ear. "Why? I just don't get it, Mama. I don't deserve your love and support… I don't deserve anything from you or anybody else…"

Maria saw her opening. She said a quick silent prayer, then launched into what she needed to say to Lexi. "We all love you, Lexi. All of us… your son… your brothers… even Bri... Marco's friends at the station… and yes, that includes Michael. We all love you. We care about you and what happens to you. Now… respect is something that one must earn. In the last few days, you haven't necessarily deserved respect. But everyone is willing to give you the chance to earn it back. We aren't giving up on you… None of us."

"Michael and Bri have… And… I guess I don't blame them." She used her napkin to dab at the corners of her eyes. "I've been thinking a lot about everything I've said and done lately." She looked up at her mother, fear paling her face. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Mama… I'm… I'm saying things I don't mean, and I'm doing things I don't want to do, but… I can't stop myself. It's like… like I'm on the outside watching me and I… I can't…," she covered her face with both hands. "Oh, Mama… I'm so scared!"

Maria pulled Lexi to her bosom, stroking her long dark hair the way she had done when Lexi had been a small child. "Shhh," she said, rubbing soothing circles along the younger woman's back. "It'll be okay… I've been praying for you for a long, long time and now you're back."

"But I'm so… messed up."

"Look at me," Maria instructed, releasing Lexi. When the two were looking at each other, Maria decided to take a chance. "I need to tell you something, but I need you to keep it in the strictest confidence, alright?"

"What's wrong, Mama?"

Maria smiled softly. "Well, I want you to know that you aren't the only one who's struggling with her past."

Lexi wrinkled her eyebrows together.

"Beverly is struggling a little, too. And she's been off the streets longer than you. She and Marco had a big misunderstanding the other day and… and she had a panic attack."

"Beverly had a panic attack? What did Marco do to her?"

"That's just it," Maria explained. "They don't know for sure. They have an idea what set it off, but it was relatively minor."

Lexi returned her gaze to her coffee cup. "What are they going to do?"

Maria smiled. "They're both going to see a therapist this afternoon. They want to find out what caused it. That way, hopefully, they can start their lives together without having panic attacks causing problems for them later on."

"Do they think it'll help?"

Maria again placed her hand on Lexi's arm. She could feel the trembling beneath her touch and knew that Lexi was terrified – she just wasn't sure if the fear was of the meeting with the DA, the concerns about her behavior, or perhaps a combination of both. "Well, it's better than doing nothing…" She let that thought linger between them for a moment. "They know they've got to do something different if they want to make things better. And they love each other enough to work on it together."

"Beverly's really lucky that Marco is stubborn," Lexi said with a nervous snort. "He doesn't give up easily."

"No, he doesn't… I know a few other people who are like that," Maria added.

"If the doctor helps them…" Lexi hesitated, looking over at her mother. "Do you think he'll be able to help me?"

"For what it's worth… the doctor is a female. And, yes, I think she just might be able to help you, too. If you're willing to let her." She sat back in her chair watching her daughter. "She specializes in helping women who have been prostitutes."

"I know it's too late for me and Bri, or me and Michael… but… I don't want to mess up with Antonio and ruin my relationship with him," she cried. She pushed away from the table before Maria could say anything else. "I'm going to be late if I don't get ready. Marco will be here soon."

"Everything will be okay, Lexi. I just know it," the older woman said, making the sign of the cross.

E!

Across town, Mike placed the shoe box on the counter and withdrew his wallet. The cashier looked at the small boots inside, ensuring that he had gotten a left and a right boot in the same size.

"For your son?"

Mike gave a soft smile to the young woman. "No… The son of a friend. He wants to be a cowboy for Halloween."

The gum-smacking lady offered him a wide grin. "Ahh, that's so sweet of you. You're spendin' a lot o' money for someone else's kid… Twelve dollars and nineteen cents."

Mike passed her the money. "He's a great kid… been through a lot." He accepted the change back, dropping the coins into his front pocket. "He deserves nice things."

She glanced at his left hand and smiled when she didn't see a ring. "I'm pretty nice," she said, leaning forward enough to reveal a little too much cleavage. "Maybe you deserve somethin' nice, too, huh?"

"Thanks for the boots," he said, quickly grabbing the bag and walking out the door. He had too much on his mind and absolutely no interest in the overly-flirtatious sales clerk.

E!

At the Pourhouse, Samford Bennett was drinking his coffee in a quiet booth, reviewing his notes before heading to the DA's office. He heard a familiar voice and looked up at the two women who were settling in at the table beside him.

"Bri?"

Both women looked over.

"Sam?" Bri questioned, not believing her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

The arson investigator gathered up his papers, straightening them into perfect alignment before replacing them into the manila folder. "I was just going over some notes. I've got to, uh, I've got a meeting at 10:00 am," he said, glancing at his watch. He didn't want to upset her by telling her that the meeting was about Leonard Hunley.

Beverly accepted the menus from Amy, giving her a knowing wink to let her know how excited Bri was about her new job. She passed one over to Bri, but realized that the younger woman seemed too involved in her conversation with Sam to notice. She looked up at Amy with a grin. "How about start us off with a couple of waters. Maybe we'll be ready to order in a few minutes," Beverly said, perusing the menu she knew by heart.

Bri tilted her head at Sam's comment. "I have a meeting at 10:00 am, too. Is yours with the DA?"

Now it was the investigator's turn to look quizzically at her. "Yea…"

Beverly pushed the menu towards Bri again, tapping her elbow with it. "Well," Beverly began. "Sounds like this will be an interesting meeting."

"Are you going too?" Sam asked Beverly, allowing Bri a chance to choose something to eat.

"No," she looked up at him, smiling. "I'm driving Bri over there. She's staying with me for a while," the counselor added.

"So… you're out of the shelter? That's great," the blond-haired man offered, his white smile shining.

"And, she has a job, too," Beverly added. "She starts here this afternoon. She'll be waitressing on the evening shift."

"Congratulations," Sam said, sincerely. "Guess I know where I'll be eating dinner from now on," he said with a grin. "Um, since we'll be heading in the same direction, I'd be happy to drive you to the DA's office," he offered. Immediately, his mind was sent reeling back to the day he carried her out of Mike Stoker's personnel hearing after she had collapsed. She had seemed so pale and weak. Today she looked much stronger and healthier. It was a marvelous change.

"Um," Bri stammered, cutting her eyes at Beverly, wondering what she should do.

Beverly knew Bri was nervous, but she also knew that she would be safe with Samford Bennett. The DA's office was only a few blocks away. She remembered how Sam had been so concerned for Bri's welfare and how much he seemed to care for her when she had confronted Leonard Hunley in the board room during the hearing. Perhaps it would be good for Bri to take the first step in trusting someone outside of her small circle of friends. After all, it wasn't as if Sam was a total stranger. She raised her eyebrows approvingly at Bri, offering her a slight nod of her head.

Bri felt a blush color her cheeks and an unfamiliar warmth spreading within her chest. "Um… Yea… That would be very nice of you, Sam."

'Atta girl,' Beverly thought to herself. At least someone seemed to be making progress instead of digressing.

E!

Mr. Nordan, the District Attorney, sat behind his large mahogany desk, scanning the notes he had made on the Hunley and Gomez cases. He steepled his fingers, releasing a heavy sigh. His 10:00 am appointments would be arriving soon, and if things went the way he was anticipating, at least one of them would be very unhappy when the meeting was over.


	9. Chapter 9

Warning: Extreme language

Chapter 9

Mike stared through his windshield at the red brick building in front of him, wondering what the meeting with the DA would entail. He looked to his right, seeing the bag holding Antonio's cowboy boots sitting on the bench seat beside him. He picked it up with a wistful smile as he pondered the excitement on the little boy's face as he opened the box. Stepping out of his pick-up truck, he noticed a familiar burgundy sedan pulling into a parking spot a few spaces down. He gulped, pressing his lips together tightly. He couldn't stop the sense of dread he felt at the thought of facing Lexi, again. What kind of mood would she be in today?

E!

Lexi felt a fine layer of perspiration forming across her upper lip as Marco pulled to a stop at the DA's office. When she recognized the tall man standing beside his truck, she felt her heart leap into her throat.

"What's he doing here?" she asked her brother.

Marco shifted into park and turned off the ignition, reaching for his door handle before answering. "He got the same call as you, sis."

Lexi didn't try to hide her disdain. "And you didn't think it was important to tell me?"

"Based on how you've been treating him, I didn't think it mattered," was all Marco said as he stepped into the bright Southern California morning. He briefly locked eyes with Mike, flinching slightly when he heard Lexi slamming the car door much harder than necessary.

Mike gripped the bag a little tighter in his hand, stepping closer to the Lopez siblings. "Morning."

"What do you have there, Stoker?" Marco asked, already knowing the answer.

Mike looked down at the white bag with a grin. "Got a little something for Antonio," he replied, passing the bag towards Lexi.

Lexi gave him a curious look. "What?"

"Well… ahem, the last time he and I spoke, he mentioned that he wanted to be a cowboy for Halloween. So, I thought he might like a pair of boots for his costume."

"And I guess you didn't think that I could provide him with what he needs, huh?" Lexi scoffed.

Marco grimaced. "C'mon, Lex. That's not what he's saying."

Mike saw Lexi roll her eyes and he felt his resentment building. "I'm not trying to butt into his life… yours either, for that matter. I've grown to love that little boy, Lexi. And I really like doing things with him and for him. I thought you understood that. But ever since that day at the restaurant, I haven't been able to have a decent conversation with you without you getting angry at me, and for the life of me, I don't understand it."

Lexi felt her eyes beginning to sting and her lower lip starting to tremble. She really didn't understand it herself. Mike had saved her life and treated her better than any other non-relative had ever treated her. So why was she treating him so badly?

Mike shoved the bag towards her. "Please… take these to him. You don't have to tell him they're from me. I just…," Mike felt the lump forming in his throat and swallowed hard to push it back down. "I just want him to be happy."

Mike's words stung the young mother. When she had first met her son, he had seemed like a happy little four-year old boy. But lately, he wasn't happy, and she knew that the only thing that had changed was her presence in his life. Was she toxic to her own son?

Marco's dark eyes darted back and forth between his sister and his friend. "Lexi… just take the boots and you can tell Antonio that you bought them for him. Mike just wants him to have the boots… He doesn't require any kind of acknowledgement."

She reached for the bag, swallowing back an exasperated sigh.

"Uh, we better get going," Marco spoke up. "Don't want to be late." He also didn't want to give Lexi a chance to say something to ruin the moment. She had accepted the gift; something neither he nor Mike had really expected of her.

E!

In Sam's car, Bri felt a nervousness she couldn't really explain. She had been worried about the impending meeting with the DA until she had run into the handsome fire investigator at the Pourhouse. Now she was sitting beside him, alone in his car, and her anxiety had less to do with the meeting and more to do with her present company. She wasn't afraid, and being in a man's car, alone with him and unafraid, was something she hadn't felt in a long time – maybe never. So, if it wasn't fear and it wasn't nervousness over the meeting with the DA, then what was causing those butterflies in her stomach? The sound of Sam's voice brought her out of her musings.

"Okay, sit tight," Sam said, turning off the ignition. "I'll get the door for you," he added, his words spilling out faster than his normal speech pattern.

Bri giggled to herself, feeling like she had somehow entered an episode of the Twilight Zone. The whole morning was so surreal. But as soon as she stepped out of the car and the shadow of the brick building loomed over her, the sense of angst returned.

Sam walked beside her up the sidewalk. When they reached the door, he pulled it open for her, then suddenly realized his hands were empty. "Uh-oh… I left my notes in the car. Um, I'll be right back," he apologized.

While Sam returned to his car, Bri walked into the lobby, stepping up to the receptionist's desk. "I'm Brittany Mendoza. I have a 10:00 o'clock meeting with Mr. Nordan."

"Yes, he'll be with you shortly. Just have a seat with the others."

Bri's eyes followed the direction the manicured finger was pointing. Her stomach dropped when she saw Lexi sitting between Mike and Marco. She forced a smile on her face and took a seat on the opposite side of the room.

"Hi, Bri," Marco said with a smile and a slight nod. "Is Beverly parking the car?"

"She'll be here in a little while. She had to run some errands, so I…" She looked at Lexi who seemed to be looking everywhere except at Bri. "I rode here with Sam."

As if on cue, Samford Bennet rushed into the waiting area. "Sorry, Bri…," he looked at the others present. "Oh, hello… Are y'all meeting with the DA, too?" he asked, looking at the assembled group sitting opposite Bri.

"Yea," was Mike's answer. "I take it you'll be joining us?"

Before the investigator could respond, the door opened and a short gray-haired man dressed in a navy-blue suit stood looking at them. "Thank you all for coming today," he greeted them, waving his arm to indicate that they should enter his office.

"Um, do you want all of us to go in together?" Sam asked.

"Yes… This involves each of you," the man replied, looking at them over the rim of his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose.

"I'll hold Antonio's boots," Marco said, reaching to take the bag from Lexi. He watched as the four entered the DA's office, wishing he could join them. His curiosity was killing him, but so was his sixth sense and he knew that whatever was going on, it wasn't good.

Inside the office, Bri looked around at the furnishings. The mahogany desk had matching double bookcases behind it, covering the back wall. The shelves were adorned with volumes of law references and a few classic novels. She recognized the titles, but had never read them. Her eyes meandered to the expanse of the large desk. There were pictures of two small boys and a little blonde-haired girl sitting on a grassy knoll. Her snaggle-toothed smile let Bri know that she was probably around six-years old. She shifted her eyes to the DA when he moved behind his desk, taking his seat.

"Thank you all for coming over today," the attorney said, adjusting his glasses on his face. He opened a brown expandable file, removing several stacks of papers and photographs. He shuffled them around, spreading them for all to see. "Um, we've had some… shall we say… developments… in these cases that I need to discuss with you."

"What kind of developments?" Sam asked, bouncing his knee. He had taken the seat nearest the window with Bri sitting beside him. He managed to glance in her direction and saw her staring at the photographs scattered haphazardly on the DA's desk. Her face had grown pale at the images of her battered face following Hunley's attack, but it was Lexi's bruised and swollen face in the photographs from the hospital that seemed to cause her the most distress. He saw Bri shiver and felt a nearly overwhelming desire to wrap his arms around her. He noticed that Lexi, sitting next to Bri, had turned her head away, refusing to look at the pictures, and Mike had shifted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable with the display.

"Ahem," Mr. Nordan began, pushing his glasses upwards until they rested on his balding forehead. "We have some really good evidence against Leonard Hunley. I mean, we've got a taped confession of everything he did to you, Ms. Olivier."

"Mendoza," both Bri and Sam corrected, simultaneously.

"Yes… Sorry," the DA mumbled. He squinted at the spread of evidence laid out on his desk, then looked back up at the small group. "We've got Leonard Hunley on tape admitting that he assaulted you, Ms. Mendoza, in an effort to terminate the pregnancy that he allegedly fathered. We also have him admitting to various other obscene sexual practices… um… Anyway, we can add a charge of sexual torture with the evidence." He looked over at the engineer sitting to his far left. "And we have him admitting to trying to destroy your career, Mr. Stoker. He even implicated Ricardo Gomez in the process by naming him as the arsonist in your investigations, Mr. Bennett… Which actually is just an added bonus, as I'll explain in a minute."

"But we know all of this," Sam said, breaking into the conversation. "I thought you called us in because you had something new to tell us."

The seasoned DA looked to his right at the fire investigator. "Yes… Like I said, we've got good evidence against Hunley. The evidence against Gomez isn't as good."

Lexi's eyes grew wide but before she could speak, Mike jumped into the conversation for her. "What do you mean?" he questioned. "You've got Lexi's testimony, pictures of her injuries, and Ricardo's reaction to her supposed death at Rampart where he was arrested, and isn't the FBI investigating the stolen identities he used for his-"

"Mr. Stoker," the DA spoke up, hoping to calm down the angry fireman. "I know what evidence we've got, but…" He hesitated, not wanting to upset anyone, but he had to tell them the truth. "The FBI is investigating a very large ring of identity thieves. I'm not a part of that. As for my jurisdiction… Well… to be perfectly honest… a jury might be… um… reluctant to accept your testimony, Ms. Lopez… I'm sorry."

Lexi huffed, cutting a knowing glance at Bri. The two women hadn't spoken since their altercation a couple of days ago, but there was still a kindred spirit between them. "I knew it."

"This is bullshit!" Bri spat out. "You're saying that the jury will believe a murdering monster like Lennie because he had… HAD," she emphasized, "a respectable job, but won't believe Lexi because she was forced to be a prostitute?" She felt her blood pressure rising.

"I didn't say that," the DA defended himself.

"Sure, you did," Sam agreed, proud of Bri's boldness. "Maybe not in so many words, but that's damn sure what you meant."

"So then, are you saying that you won't prosecute Gomez for killing the elderly woman in the first fire, or the attempted murder of Lexi," Sam said, waving his arm in Lexi's direction, "assault, arson… all because you don't have a confession from him?"

"Look, here's the bottom line," Mr. Nordan began. "The recent development is that… Gomez requested a plea bargain in exchange for a reduction in his charges if he testifies against Hunley."

"Are you seriously considering taking that? Shouldn't that be up to Lexi?" Sam questioned.

"Yes, it should be," Mike replied. "And he doesn't even need Gomez's testimony because the Hunley case is so easy that any lawyer worth his salt could get a conviction."

"It's not that simple, Mr. Stoker," the DA responded, his face turning red.

"The hell it isn't," Mike shot back. He saw Lexi wringing her hands and discreetly wiping at her eyes. He wanted to reach out to her, but he didn't know if she would accept his gesture of concern. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes narrowing at the man behind the desk.

Mr. Nordan rubbed his hand across his forehead. "Please just try to understand, Mr. Stoker. In my professional opinion, it makes sense to take down the one who's done the most damage to the greatest number and then REDUCE the charges against Gomez… Not let him go free! Hunley has admitted that Gomez started the apartment fire, and Gomez knows that, too. No… he isn't going free."

"So that's your, ahem… added bonus," Mike stated with disdain.

Sam felt his jaw clenching and releasing as he glared at the DA. "What's your percentage, man?"

"Excuse me?" the DA questioned, unsure of where the conversation was heading.

"You heard me," Sam commented with venom in his voice. "What's your percentage of convictions?"

Mike, who picked up on what Sam was thinking, jumped into the conversation, again. "It's about 90 or maybe even 95 percent, right?"

Mr. Nordan's face turned ashen. "Ninety-seven."

"And," Sam continued. "Plea deals count as convictions, so if you accept Gomez's offer, then you get a conviction in court on Hunley AND a conviction by plea on Gomez… That's two more convictions to add to that percentage."

"And '76 is an election year," Mike added, feeling a need to punch the cocky DA in the nose.

Bri, who had been silent until now, pointed to the framed pictures of the children on the desk. "Those your kids?" she asked.

"Grandchildren," the DA said, proudly.

"I'm sure you love them very much, don't you?" She continued.

"Yes," the DA replied, confused by her line of questioning.

"If you had to turn them over to Lennie or Ricardo, which one would you choose?" Bri asked, maintaining her gaze on the family photographs.

"I-I don't know what you mean," the attorney said, nervously.

"Well, with Lennie, you've got a man who murdered his unborn child and who likes to torture women, both physically and mentally. Then with Ricardo," she said, holding out her other hand as if weighing the options, "you've got an arsonist and a murderer, I mean… he did start the fire that ultimately killed the elderly woman after Lennie killed my baby." She didn't wait for a response. "And Ricardo likes to torture others and then relive the events over and over and over, so…" She moved her hands as if juggling some unseen object between them. "Do you really want to turn Gomez back onto the streets to prey on your innocent grandchildren?"

Lexi saw the DA's countenance change when Bri mentioned Ricardo's penchant for reliving his dastardly deeds, and felt the color draining from her own face. "Bri, don't do this," Lexi said, clenching her teeth together tightly. She gripped the arms of her chair so hard her knuckles turned white.

"Why not, Lex?" Bri asked, her voice much too soft for the situation; she had to keep her cool, even though it was a struggle. "He's gonna let Gomez get away with what he's done, but they're both hideous creatures… and they don't even know everything about Ricardo."

"Stop it!" Lexi said, forcefully; obviously wanting to hide something from the men in the room.

Mike and Sam exchanged confused glances then looked back at the two women.

Mr. Nordan once again shuffled the papers in front of him. "But, uh, see… we've got more evidence on Hunley, and he-he also tried to ruin Mr. Stoker's career," he added, pointing at the engineer to his left. "And he caused a lot of damage to the reputation of the fire department, especially the arson unit," he continued, pointing to the investigator to his right.

"This isn't about the department, or me," Mike spoke up, his concern for Lexi and Bri growing with each passing second; he could see Bri's anger building, but it was Lexi's quickening breaths that had him most concerned.

"I'm just saying that Hunley and Gomez are not equally dangerous to society," Mr. Nordan argued.

"Oh, Hunley is a true monster, I agree," Bri said, adjusting her gaze from the little girl's picture to the DA. "But he hasn't done anything that Gomez hasn't done. Lennie just focused his horrors on me. He killed my baby, and Ricardo killed the old woman. Hunley sexually tortured me, and Ricardo tortured-"

"NO!" Lexi said, raising her voice. "Shut up, Bri!"

Bri looked at the woman who sat beside her, a look of terror on her face. "He needs to know."

"Know what?" Mr. Nordan questioned.

"Nothing!" Lexi said quickly, glaring at Bri. She turned her attention back to the DA. "Take it. Let Ricardo testify against Leonard and then reduce his charges."

"Wait a minute, Lexi," Mike spoke up, not liking how fast she had acquiesced to the DA's suggestion. "We need to know what Gomez is going to be pleading to."

"No… WE don't need to know ANYTHING!" Lexi shot back. "ME… I need to know… This doesn't involve anyone else, but me!"

"Bullshit!" Mike shot back.

"WHAT?" Lexi said, turning to face him. "He beat ME! He tried to kill ME! He repeatedly raped ME! He was MY pimp! Not YOURS!"

Mike's face remained stoic. "He took Antonio's mother away from him. He stole Mrs. Lopez's only daughter away from her for five years. He broke the hearts of the Lopez boys over their sister… AND…" He hesitated for emphasis. "I risked my life rescuing you from that apartment fire and-"

"Fuck you, Michael!" Lexi spat back, jumping up from her seat, her voice cracking. She looked over at the DA who seemed shocked by her language. "So, what will he get?"

"Um," the DA stammered, looking at his notes. "He'd plead guilty to assault and, uh, arson… since he knows we have Hunley on tape implicating him, and he'd serve 6 months in jail."

Lexi paced across the small room. "Okay, it's October now… so he'd get out in," she counted on her fingers. "He'd get out in April?"

"Uh, no… he'd get credit for time served so…"

Mike did the quick math. "He'd be out by February… sooner for good behavior."

The DA merely nodded his head.

"Sonofabitch," Sam mumbled.

Lexi stood still, dumbfounded. Her mind reeling. How could this be happening? How had her life gone from being rescued from near death to being thrown back into the proverbial lions' den? The emotions she was feeling were all too familiar to her. The pattern of her life was repeating itself – again.

Bri turned to look at her friend and what she saw made her heart leap into her throat. She had seen that same look on Lexi's face before… and the faces of other girls in their situation. It was the look of utter defeat. Lexi was giving up. "Lexi… don't take it!"

"Fine… I'll agree to it," Lexi said, dejectedly.

"Wait," Mike said, standing up to face her. "Don't make a hasty decision."

"Why not? Nothing will change whether I wait or not. If we go to trial, he'll get off with nothing… I've… Um," she stuttered, feeling the walls closing in on her. She backed away from Mike as he took a step towards her. "I've got to get out of here."

Just as Lexi turned for the office door, she heard the DA standing, calling her back.

"Uh, Ms. Lopez?"

Lexi turned to look at him and Mike saw that what little life he had seen in her eyes when they'd arrived, had simply faded away.

"Ms. Lopez, I'll need you to sign an acknowledgement that you'll accept the plea deal. I can have it ready later this afternoon," the DA announced.

Mike looked over at the man he now despised. "Why don't you take your acknowledgement and shove it up your-"

"I'll come back," Lexi replied. "What time?"

"Um, about four o'clock," the DA said looking nervously at the tall engineer. At the moment, Mike looked like a man who might be prone to doing bodily harm.

"I'll be here," Lexi said, quickly exiting the office, Mike following after her.

"Lexi… wait up," Mike called out.

Lexi's strides never slowed down as she hurried across the waiting area. She saw Marco standing up from the corner of her eye, but she never even acknowledged him. Instead, she pushed the glass doors open and walked out into the parking lot, heading straight for Marco's car.

Back inside the DA's office, Mr. Nordan was replacing the documents into the expandable file.

"Unbelievable," Sam said, standing up and offering his hand to Bri.

"No, just typical justice for women like us," Bri responded.

"Um, Ms. Mendoza… Is there something more you need to tell me?" the DA asked, anxiously. He didn't want to be reducing charges on a man who might reoffend, committing even worse crimes against society. That would have a negative impact on his upcoming re-election campaign.

"There's nothing more that I need to tell you," Bri spat out. "But there IS more that you need to know about Ricardo. Unfortunately, the only person who can really give you the information you need, just walked out that door," she said, jerking her head towards the office door.

"But it sounded like you had the information," Mr. Nordan said, hoping to force the issue with her.

"Oh, I have the information," Bri said, glaring at him as she stood up. "But she's the only one who knows where the… um, shall we say… confessions are hidden… I'm just a former prostitute that no one will believe," she stated bitterly, quickly exiting the office with Sam following her.

E!

Lexi stood at the passenger's door of Marco's car, waiting for him to open it. She refused to allow herself to shed a single tear. Tears were a sign of weakness; something exploited by others.

"Lexi?"

She heard Mike calling after her, but she refused to turn around.

"What's going on?" Marco asked, refusing to unlock his car until he got an answer.

Mike waited for Lexi to respond, but when she didn't, he allowed his anger at the justice system to spew out. "That DA back there," he began, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, "is a ball-less piece of shit!"

"What?" Marco questioned, unlocking the passenger's side door and tossing Antonio's boots into the backseat.

"What happened is exactly what always happens, Marco. Guys like Ricardo get away with what they do… The bad guys always win," Lexi scoffed, slipping into the passenger seat. "Hunley's going down because he made the mistake of getting caught on tape. The DA can't help him much now."

"I don't understand," Marco said, perplexed, looking to Mike for more information.

"He's prosecuting Hunley because he's got a taped confession, but he's gotten Lexi to agree to a plea bargain on Gomez that will basically let him get away with little more than time served."

"Huh?" Marco asked, squinting his eyes, not believing what he was hearing. "Are you kidding me?"

Lexi huffed loudly before saying what neither man expected to hear. "Oh, and what Mr. Nordan didn't say is that in return, Ricardo will make a nice… anonymous… donation to his campaign fund next year." When she saw the looks both men gave her, she continued. "What? You think dirty cops are the only ones on the take from the local pimps? Why the hell do you think it's us girls who keep getting arrested? Because we don't have the money to pay off the law," she said, slamming the car door shut.

Mike looked over at Marco. "Look… She wants to come back at four o'clock to sign the agreement to the plea deal. I know you and Beverly have an appointment so I'll be happy to drive her back here. Maybe I can talk her out of it, or something."

Marco scrubbed his face with his open palm. "Yea… I sure hope so, Mike. Thanks, man… Um, you want to come over to Mama's house for lunch?"

Mike hesitated, wondering how Lexi might feel about the invitation. He didn't allow his thoughts to linger too long before he accepted it. "Sure… but, uh, do you think Mama Lopez will be offended if I have a late lunch? I need to run a few errands since I haven't been home in over 48 hours."

"No problem," he responded. "I'll be there when you arrive and I'm sure Mama will keep the lunch warm for you."

Mike smiled, then stepped back from the car as Marco cranked it up. He waited for Lexi to look at him, but she didn't. Instead, Mike stood there watching as the burgundy sedan drove away, wondering how things had gone so badly in such a short period of time. He heard a car pull up beside him and a car door open.

"Hey, Mike. Are they through already?"

Mike turned around, seeing Beverly getting out of her car. "Uh, yea… It didn't go well," he replied.

By the time Mike had finished telling her what happened, Bri and Sam walked up. Both of them saw the look on Beverly's face and knew that Mike had informed her of what had happened at the meeting.

"Bastard," Beverly cursed, shaking her head.

"You took the word right out of my mouth," Bri commented.

E!

By the time the late lunch crowd had departed from the Pourhouse, Bri had finished her orientation of the restaurant, and was ready to serve customers. Amy watched in wonder at how quickly the young woman had picked up the procedures. She had been a little anxious about Bri, knowing that she had never attended high school, but she seemed to be able to smile to the customers, in spite of her past, and so far, she had gotten every order right.

When Bri returned to the counter after serving the last customer a piece of pie, Amy took a moment to commend her. "You're really picking this up fast," the older woman commented. "You're a natural."

Bri, who had been able to put the meeting with the DA behind her, seemed almost giddy. "Well… Guess I've had a little training in customer service." Beverly had told her that Amy was fully aware that she was a former prostitute, and that the head waitress was also completely supportive of the women at the Wellhouse who were trying to gain job skills and a positive work history.

"You have a remarkable resiliency about you, Bri," Amy commented. "I've never met a woman in your position who has such a positive attitude. Normally, the women who come through here from Beverly's place are bitter… They don't seem to interact with the customers as well as you do." Her mind went immediately to Gretchen. "Or they seem to be looking for love and acceptance in all the wrong places."

"Oh, believe me," Bri said, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead, "I know what you mean about bitter women. I've lived with them, remember? But, I do understand it." She leaned her hip against the counter, keeping a watchful eye on the front door, ready to greet any customers who may walk in. "When you've been given things… food, shelter… sometimes even what seems like love… then had those things snatched away, or used against you, you become very… um… well, pissed off… And then you'll fall for anything or anyone."

Amy mirrored her stance, listening to the younger woman. "So, I would imagine it's hard to trust someone after all you've been through."

Bri looked down at the counter, picking up a cloth to wipe it off, even though it was already spotless. The conversation was moving into a place where she wasn't completely comfortable, but she felt like Amy understood better than most. "Yea… It's hard… impossible, for some," she said, thinking of Lexi. She couldn't help but wonder if Mike had been able to reach Lexi and talk her out of signing the acceptance of Ricardo's plea deal. "They just don't seem to think they can trust anybody … maybe they can't," she said softly.

Amy reached out, patting her new employee on the shoulder. "You've seen the worst that humanity has to offer… Don't close yourself off to the chance to develop friendships with the good side of people."

E!

A very satiated Mike Stoker rubbed his full stomach as he took a seat on the Lopez front porch, waiting for the costume display that Antonio had wanted to show him. The worried engineer had hoped for the chance to talk to Lexi, but Mrs. Lopez had said that she hadn't eaten any lunch, and had remained in her room since Mike had arrived, refusing to talk to him… or anyone. She had even refused to talk to Beverly, or her own mother. Later on, Marco had presented Antonio with his boots, a gesture which seemed to have diverted his attention from his upset mother. Now the proud little boy was about to display them, along with his cowboy hat and plastic six-shooter that Marco had purchased, in an impromptu fashion show.

"Hi yo Sliver, away!" Antonio shouted as he stomped onto the front porch, walking like a miniature John Wayne, allowing the screen door to slam shut behind him as if it were the swinging door of a saloon from the old West. He obviously was ignoring his grandmother's chastisement from the living room.

"Weelll…" Mike admired the young boy from head to toe. "Don't you look like a real cowboy!"

"I'm not a cowboy… I'm the Long Ranger!"

"Oh, yes… the Lone Ranger," Mike agreed, subtly correcting the little boy's mispronunciation. "Grandma hasn't made your mask yet, right?"

"Right, but she said it would be ready by Halloween," the tyke said proudly.

"Okay," Marco spoke up. "Why don't you put away your costume. Don't want to get it dirty before Halloween."

The little boy removed his cowboy hat, looking it over carefully. "Jus' a little dust from ridin' Sliver."

Marco grinned. "The Lone Ranger kept his hat and boots clean though, Ant."

"I'll go clean up right now," he said, turning towards the screen door. He hesitated, then turned back around, rushing into Mike's arms, giving the surprised engineer a jolt. "Thank you, Mister Mike."

"You're welcome, Ant."

The child turned to his uncle, giving him the same gesture. "Thank you, Meeko."

"You're welcome, Antonio. Love you, sport."

"Love you, too," he replied, running towards the door. "Love you, too, Mister Mike."

Mike grinned as the door slammed behind the child, knowing that Mrs. Lopez would be raising her voice again. "Love you, too, Antonio," he whispered, snickering when he heard Maria scolding the excited little boy.

"Antonio, do NOT slam that door again!"

"Sorry, Grandma," Antonio said, heading for the stairs.

Maria rubbed her aching forehead. She mumbled something in Spanish that Beverly didn't understand, but the younger woman understood the emotions she was displaying. Mrs. Lopez was quickly reaching her limit.

"Any ideas?" Maria asked, her weary eyes looking at Beverly with a tiredness Beverly hadn't seen before.

"No… Not at the moment." She glanced at her watch. "Marco and I will be leaving shortly to see the new therapist. I'll ask her if she'll see Lexi."

Maria looked at her future daughter-in-law, lifting one eyebrow.

Beverly smiled knowingly. "Marco told me that he had shared with you what happened to us. It's okay… I'm not angry."

Maria patted Beverly on her hand. "I'm glad you feel that way. After all, you're about to join our family forever. I'm so happy to have you as a daughter, Beverly."

"I'm glad to… to finally have a real mother," Beverly replied.

Upstairs, the last segment of the conversation had been overheard by Lexi, who stood rigidly at the top of the stairs. She knew what she had to do. She had been contemplating it for a while now. The meeting with the DA had merely confirmed it. In the long run, it would be best for everyone.

The sound of the front door opening made the women look up.

"We need to get going, Beverly. I'm sure there'll be paperwork to fill out," Marco said.

"Yes," Beverly said, rising to her feet.

Mike followed Marco inside from the porch. He saw Lexi slowly walking down the stairs. "We need to get going, too, Lexi… Unless you've changed your mind."

The eyes of everyone in the room turned to Lexi.

"No," she replied, continuing her descent to the bottom of the stairs. "I haven't changed my mind. This is best for everyone."

Mike pressed his lips together in a tight line. It wasn't what was best and it wasn't what he, nor anyone in the Lopez family wanted, but it was Lexi's decision, and she didn't seem ready to change her mind.

Mike followed Lexi out to his pick-up truck, opening the door for her. She didn't look at him, just slid into the seat and waited for him to close the door.

"You're welcome," he whispered to himself, sarcastically, as he walked around the front of his truck to get in beside her. This was going to be another long and silent drive.

E!

Across town, Marco opened the office door for Beverly, feeling his stomach do a little flipflop. He had never seen a therapist before, and really wasn't looking forward to doing it now. But, he did want Beverly to be okay, and he wanted their marriage to get off to a good start. She was worth the discomfort of being psychoanalyzed.

"May I help you?" the receptionist asked.

"Um, yes, we have a four o'clock appointment," Beverly announced.

"Marsh?"

"Yes."

The receptionist passed Beverly and Marco clipboards with questionnaires on them. "Please fill these out. If you don't get finished before she calls you, just take them back with you."

"Thank you," Marco replied, accepting the proffered clipboard and pen.

The two had only finished completing the demographics sections of the forms when an office door opened. "Ms. Marsh and Mr. Lopez?" a tall woman with dark hair in a tight bun called out.

Beverly smiled at the woman, hoping her nervousness didn't show through. "Thank you," she said, nodding at the smiling woman.

"Just have a seat wherever you like," the therapist said, waving her hand at the plush furniture. There were pillows all around the room, even a few very large ones on the floor.

Marco placed a hand on the small of Beverly's back, allowing her to choose their seating arrangement. He offered the therapist a smile, thinking that she had the appearance of an owl with her overly large brown-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. She wasn't overly pretty, but she had a warmth about her that made him relax immediately. She definitely wasn't what he was expecting.

Ms. Coats moved a large floor pillow in front of her desk and plopped herself down, pen and pad in her hand. She slipped off her shoes and crossed her legs, obviously preferring to be very comfortable during her sessions.

Beverly followed her, slipping her sandals off and taking a seat on a floor pillow in front of the floral sofa. Marco sat behind her, allowing her to lean her back against him.

"Now," the therapist commented. "What brings you into my office today?"

"We-well," Beverly stuttered, twisting her torso to look up at Marco. Seeing his smile gave her the courage she needed to be honest with their therapist. "Um… I understand that you work with… uh… former prostitutes."

"Yes, that's right."

"Um… I'm… a… former prostitute… And the other day… Oh, uh," she continued to stammer, "… this is my fiancé, Marco Lopez, and the other day… we were having a… disagreement… minor one, about my going to grad school… and… um… I had a… a panic attack."

Ms. Coats glanced down at her notes. "Beverly… Marsh…" She tapped her pen on the pad of paper in her lap. "Are you the founder of the Wellhouse?"

"Yes, I am… I work with Dr. Baker. She highly recommended you," Beverly replied, feeling more confident.

Ms. Coats smiled warmly. "Yes, I've known her for quite some time. I used to work with her before she retired from full-time practice. I work with Dr. Shamburger now. Dr. Baker thinks you're a miracle worker," she said with a smile.

Beverly blushed, lowering her chin. "Thank you, Dr. Coats. I-"

"Wait… let me stop you right there," Ms. Coats said. I don't want to present myself as something I'm not. I'm not a psychologist."

Beverly glanced up at Marco then back at the therapist. "Um… you are a psychotherapist, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. I've got nearly twenty years of experience; the last five years I've worked with a lot of former prostitutes. So, I feel confident that I can help you and Mr. Lopez. But if you're looking for a therapist with a doctorate degree, then I'm not the therapist you're looking for. I can make a referral, if you'd like… I mean, if you don't feel comfortable with a therapist with a Master's degree."

Beverly knitted her eyebrows together, glancing up at Marco who had a faint grin on his face. "May I ask you what you have a Master's degree in?"

"I have a degree in counseling and I'm a licensed Marriage and Family Therapist. I don't diagnose people with mental illnesses, but I do help people with relationship problems and assist them in improving their lives through insight, stress management, relationship education… I even provide sex therapy which is fairly new." She smiled broadly. "And, no I don't have sex with my clients, I just help them learn ways to communicate intimately and improve their sex lives."

Marco slipped from his seat, squirming into position next to Beverly on the floor. "You mean, you can do all that without a doctorate degree?" He reached out his hand, feeling Beverly slip her smaller hand into his larger one.

"Yes… I never felt called to complete a doctoral program, but when I found out I could help people improve their relationships WITHOUT going through all that extra work, I knew that was what I needed to do. Don't get me wrong," she said, raising her hand. "I have total respect for the doctors I work with. I work with both a psychiatrist, for my clients who need prescriptions, and with a psychologist who is my supervisor. But I can counsel my clients independently on marriage and relationship issues, and that's the direction I chose to take for my career. I'm more interested in working to help people fit better into their own environment than in treating mental illness. It's my niche," she explained.

Beverly felt the tears begin to sting her face and she leaned her head against Marco's shoulder. Could she do this, too? Was this the answer to their quandary?

"I assure you that I am qualified to help you, but again, if you feel more comfortable with a therapist at the doctoral level-"

"Ms. Coats," Marco grinned, his entire face beaming. "I think you've already helped us more than you could possibly ever know."

E!

In the DA's office, Lexi sat across from the large mahogany desk for the second time in just a few hours. She held a blue pen in her hand, poised to sign the document the DA had pushed in front of her.

"Does this mean that I won't have to testify in court?" she asked.

The DA removed his glasses, looking intently at the young woman. "Well… that all depends." He glanced down at his hands, then back up at her. "Ms. Lopez, is there anything else that I need to know about Ricardo Lopez? You seemed to have been alluding to something when you were here earlier."

Lexi gulped, feeling her heart beating in her throat. "Um… No… No, sir… So, I don't need to testify against him in court?"

"That's right, Ms. Lopez. You'll never have to tell your story in front of a large group of strangers," the DA said. "Nothing will have to be made public that would further embarrass your family or you."

Lexi felt the sting of that comment. "And he'll never be charged with those higher charges again?"

"Not unless he does them again… Or unless some new evidence comes up of a different crime that he's committed that's still within the statute of limitations," he said, allowing her one final chance to tell him what she knew.

Lexi twirled the pen between her fingers. She needed to make sure she was doing the right thing. "And… Um… He'll be in jail at least through the end of the year?"

"That's right… and on probation for another four and a half years once he's released."

She bit her bottom lip, grateful that he would remain in jail until after Marco and Beverly were married. That was her primary concern. Positioning her pen over the thin black line beside the large X, she paused, needing to ask one more question. She inhaled deeply. "If I sign this, am I allowed to see him?"

The DA drew his eyebrows together in confusion. "Do you want to?"

"There's a few things I need to say to him."

"Well… There's no legal reason why you can't visit him on weekends during visitation hours. That's between one o'clock and five o'clock on Sunday afternoons."

Mr. Nordan watched as she signed her name on the line, thus assuring him of another conviction… most likely two, when Hunley's case went to trial. "Um… of course, you can always write him a letter. You don't have to actually look at him, you know?"

Lexi stood up, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "Thank you, Mr. Nordan," she said, walking towards the office door. Now she had to face Michael, knowing that he would be angry with her. He had tried to convince her to change her mind about signing the form, but she had remained steadfast, something that was sure to upset him further. She had already formulated her plan, and she was determined to carry it out… knowing that only one person was going to be happy with the decisions she had made.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Lexi stared out the window of Mike's truck along the familiar route from the DA's office back to her home, her mind spinning in several different directions. She had limited time to begin to execute her plan, and it all started with Michael. She silently prayed to the God she wasn't sure she believed in anymore that somehow Michael might one day forgive her. She waited for him to pull out into traffic before she began the conversation.

"Um… Michael… Can we talk?"

Mike cut his eyes in her direction, lifting his eyebrows at her. "Of course… My place, or yours?"

Lexi quickly responded. "Your place, please… It's… um, private."

Mike turned onto his street, his heart thudding in his chest. "How 'bout we stop for takeout first? I haven't been to the market in a few days," he said, grateful he had picked up around his living room before going on his 48-hour shift. He hadn't been anticipating a guest when he had left his residence a couple of days ago.

"Um…"

"My treat, Lex," he stated, knowing why she was hesitating. "I went by the bank earlier and cashed a check."

"I'm really not hungry," she said. Her appetite had been minimal for several days now. Today's events hadn't helped it to improve, either.

Her comment worried Mike. She had never been shy about eating around him. "Well, I'm starving, and I need to break a twenty, so I'll have a couple of bucks for my part of the food next shift," he said, hoping to encourage her to change her mind. "I'll get us burgers and fries. Just try to eat what you can, Lexi. I know today's been really stressful for you."

She looked down at her lap, then gazed out her window again. "Yea…"

Half an hour later, and after a hurried trip by the corner market, Mike parked his pick-up truck in its usual parking spot. He reached for the sack of groceries while Lexi grabbed the bag of fast food and together, they walked up the stairs to his apartment.

Mike fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. There were no words exchanged; none were needed. They had done this before, although the routine no longer felt as comfortable as it once had.

Mike dropped his keys into the bowl in the foyer, emptying his pockets of the coins that tended to fall out when he sat down on his sofa and adding them to the glass bowl. He quickly walked towards the kitchen to put away the groceries. "Why don't you call your mom and let her know where you are. I'd hate to worry her," he suggested. "Soda?"

"Yea… I think I can drink one."

"I've got ginger ale. It might help settle your stomach," Mike said with a slight smile, reaching for a couple of glasses in his cabinet. He poured the soda while Lexi made the phone call. It was brief, but at least she had let her mother know what was going on. For that, he was grateful.

"Alright, it isn't a gourmet meal, but it'll have to do," he said, taking a seat. He winced a little, twisting his aching back to stretch it. He hadn't worked a double shift in over a year, and both days had been busy. He got very little sleep and what he did get had been interrupted for multiple, exhaustive runs.

Lexi noticed the look of pain on his face. "Are you okay?"

"Yea… It was just a long shift. I'm a little stiff," he said, unwrapping his burger.

"I can give you a back rub after we eat," she offered. "You seemed to like the last one."

As much as Mike needed the massage, he couldn't help his skepticism. Why would she offer to do something nice for him when she'd been treating him so badly over the last couple of weeks? Then his fatigued brain figured it out. She was stalling.

"I appreciate that, but it isn't necessary. I'll just get a quick hot shower to loosen up the muscles and then we can talk, okay?" He saw the hurt look on her face, but he knew his response had been the right one. "Lexi, it isn't that I don't want that… Really, I do… I just don't think it's a good idea, considering where our relationship is right now."

Lexi nodded in agreement, realizing that he was right. She was avoiding the impending conversation. "I know… You're right."

Mike finished his burger and fries, all the while wondering why Lexi was suddenly acting so differently. She hadn't been nice to him, or anyone else, for several days. And after the events of today's meeting at the DA's office, he was beginning to hope that maybe she was about to share more details with him. It was obvious that Bri knew the truth, but Lexi had silenced her. Was she about to trust him with the rest of the story? He wadded up the burger wrapper as a darker thought crept into his mind. She had been distant on the ride home. Was she about to break off their relationship?

"Do you mind if I get a little more ginger ale?"

Mike looked over at her, noticing that she had eaten a small portion of her dinner. Feeling a little sense of relief, he offered her a slight smile. "Of course not; make yourself at home, Lexi."

While Lexi poured another glass of soda, Mike cleaned up the remnants of his meal. "I'm gonna go take a shower now… so, um…"

"I know... Make myself at home, right?" she said.

Mike gave her a nod. He hoped her good mood was a permanent change, but something was niggling inside his gut telling him that something was wrong… very wrong. As Mike turned to walk down the hallway to his bathroom, he heard her calling out to him.

"Take your time, Michael. Your muscles need to be relaxed so you can get a good night's sleep," she called over her shoulder.

As soon as she heard his bedroom door close, she picked up the hamburger and French fries she had been nibbling on and threw them into the trash can, shoving her hand towards the bottom to cover up her deed. She then took the hamburger wrapper, laying it on top of the rest of the refuse so that Mike would think she had eaten her entire meal.

"Make myself at home, huh?" she mumbled, looking around his apartment. She ran her finger across his new television set as she meandered around the living room. She looked at the pictures of his parents on the etagere, noting how much Mike resembled his father. She continued walking across the floor towards the front door. There, on the table in the foyer, she saw the bowl where he kept his truck keys… and his loose change. She leaned around the corner enough to hear the shower water still running, then looked back at the coins. There had to be three dollars or more that Mike had just tossed aside. Did he really need that money? It wasn't much, right? She reached inside, counting out one dollar in nickels and dimes, then quickly tossed them inside her purse. As the sound of the water continued to run, she walked down the hallway, quietly pushing his bedroom door open. There, on his dresser, was his wallet. He had told her he had cashed a check, hadn't he?

A few minutes later, Mike stepped out of his bathroom, his wet hair finger-combed and a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked at the open bedroom door and drew his eyebrows together in confusion. "Thought I shut that," he mumbled to himself, closing the door and stripping off his towel. He quickly dried himself then dressed in sweatpants and a tee shirt. When he reopened the door, he was startled to see Lexi standing there.

"Geez… you scared me."

"Sorry," she replied, sheepishly. "I just thought I'd give you another chance for that back massage."

Mike looked deeply into her eyes, wondering what mysteries lurked behind the beautiful dark orbs. "Mmm," he groaned, wishing he could take her up on the offer. "How about a rain check?" Although Mike was neither a married man, like Cap and Roy, nor a serial dater like Johnny, he was not ignorant about women. He knew that she was trying to tempt him in order to delay their conversation. That could only mean one thing – bad news.

"C'mon, Michael…"

He knew she was stalling and he wasn't going to allow her to get away with it. "Next time," he said, using his hands to turn her around and head back towards the living room. His bedroom held too many memories. "This time… We talk."

Lexi released a sigh as she took a seat on his sofa, staring at her hands. This was going to be more difficult than she thought, but she also knew she had no other choice. It seemed that in all her life, the choices she had made really hadn't been choices at all. They were all decisions dictated by her circumstances. She swallowed hard.

"Okay… Um… first of all… I want to apologize to you," she began.

"For what?" Mike asked. He thought that she actually owed him several apologies, so which one was she talking about, specifically.

"For…" She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. "For everything, Michael. For that day at the restaurant… For how I acted this morning about you buying Antonio those boots… For cursing at you during the meeting with the DA… Just… For everything."

"You've been through a lot, Lex," he said, stroking her hair out of her face.

"That's no excuse. You… You've treated me so much better than anybody else ever has… and I know I don't deserve it."

"Lex-"

"No, Michael. Please hear me out. I don't know why I do it," she said, looking away from him. She hated seeing the look of pity she knew would be there. "Just like with Bri the other day… I jumped on her like she was trying to kill my son or something, and… She moved out. Not that I blame her."

"Lexi… Please look at me."

"I c-can't, Michael."

Mike reached around her, pulling her against his chest. He loved the way she felt resting her cheek along his torso. The fact that she didn't pull away was encouraging to him.

Lexi leaned against him, hearing his heart beating against her ear. She reached her hands up, stroking his muscular biceps. "I'm… scared."

He kissed her lightly on the top of her head. "Of me?"

"No… I'd never be afraid of you… I'm scared… of me… of how I'm behaving… what I might do."

Mike didn't know what to say to ease her fears. He pulled her tighter to his chest, using his hand to cup her face protectively against him. "What do you think you might do?"

Lexi immediately regretted starting this conversation, but she needed to try to complete it. She owed Michael more than just her life. He had been so good to her young son, and he was a great friend to Marco.

"Lexi?"

"Just that… I feel so… I dunno, like a fish out of water."

Mike wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "How so?"

"You know… Like I don't belong here… in this life… being back home…" She hesitated, unable to explain her feelings. No one could understand it unless they had lived on the streets. She immediately began to change the direction of the conversation. "And especially that… I'm afraid that I… that I'll mess up… with Antonio, you know?" she stuttered.

"How?" Mike asked, sensing that she had suddenly changed her mind about what she had been planning to say.

"Well… he was… he was happy… until I came back into his life… I… I'm wondering if I should've stayed away."

"He's happy, Lexi. He loves you," Mike drawled out, the mixture of fatigue, full stomach, and a hot shower taking its toll.

"I don't know, Michael. He seems happy sometimes and sad sometimes. I don't want to be an embarrassment to him when he gets older… like I am to my family… and…" She paused, trying to figure out how best to bring up the subject of Ricardo and the fact that his upcoming release would likely mean more embarrassment for her and her family. She droned on for several minutes, not really saying anything. Then she heard the sound of Mike's soft snores. She turned to look at him, seeing his head resting against the back of the sofa, his mouth slightly open. How much had he actually heard?

E!

Marco reached across the seat of his sedan, grasping Beverly's trembling hand. They had met with Ms. Coats together and separately, and whatever Beverly had discussed during her private time, had left her visibly shaken. Things had gone so well during their joint meeting, and Marco had felt a sense of relief after his solo session, so what had happened that had left Beverly so upset?

"Babe?" Her only response was a sniffle and a gentle squeeze of his hand. "Slide over here, please."

Beverly complied, pushing herself into the center of the bench seat, grateful when he wrapped his right arm around her shoulder. He pulled her into his side as he drove, feeling the tension in her body.

"Why don't we go back to my apartment? Bri is working and I don't want to leave you alone when you're like this," he said. He really wanted to know what had happened that upset her, but he had been cautioned not to ask her any questions. She had to tell him what she wanted him to know, when she was comfortable sharing it. He hoped that it would be soon because his heart was breaking for her right now.

"Yea," she said, gulping back a hiccup. "I, uh… I really need to talk to you about something… something… 'mportant," she said, sniffling again.

Marco's heart sank into his stomach. "Baby… whatever it is… we're gonna be okay."

She didn't respond, continuing the ride in silence. Marco kept his eyes on the road, knowing that if he looked at her, he might lose control of his emotions, as well. He needed to stay strong, even if his world might be crumbling. But what could have happened that had upset her so much?

Ten minutes later, they were walking into his apartment. Beverly looked around, running her fingers beneath her eyes, further smearing her eye make-up.

"Why don't I get you some water?" Marco asked, hurrying to the kitchen while Beverly sat down on his sofa. Moments later, he handed her a glass of ice water, then took a seat beside her.

Beverly sipped the water, enjoying how it soothed her parched throat. She set the glass down on the coffee table then leaned back, resting her head against the sofa. "Marco… I haven't been completely honest with you."

Marco licked his lips, his level of anxiety rising with each breath. "A-about what?"

"About something that… I…" She inhaled a shaky breath. "I'm afraid that you… you c-can't ever fo-forgive me for."

Marco leaned over, pulling her into a warm embrace. He felt her trembling, felt her gripping his shirt collar so tightly that he was afraid the buttons were going to pop off. "Baby… Shhhh… Whatever it is… It doesn't matter… I love you… I'll love you, forever."

Beverly pulled away, knowing she had to get this over with quickly. She couldn't look at him, her shame was too heavy and she couldn't bear to see the look on his face. "Marco… I… when I was sixteen… I… I got pregnant."

His stomach churned, and he fought to keep it stable. "What… happened to the… baby?"

Beverly hugged herself tightly. She didn't want him to touch her, fearing that she would feel judgement in his touch. She rocked back and forth, her eyes squeezed shut. "I… I was taken to… to a clinic in… Mexico."

"Oh, baby," Marco groaned, knowing immediately what she was going to say. He reached out, not letting her pull away from him. "I'm so sorry…" He felt her body relax a little, feeling her head moving from side to side. "You were young..."

"I'm so… sorry… I should o'… tol' you… sooner."

"Shhhh," he soothed, running his hand down the back of her head. "Shhh…. I'm here, baby… I'll always be here."

"But… I-"

"Beverly," he said, running his hand tenderly down her back. "We all make mistakes."

"Mistakes?" she questioned, understanding what he meant. "You think that I WANTED to do it?"

Marco gulped, trying to lick his lips, but his mouth was suddenly dry. "Ohmygod… You mean… It wasn't your choice?"

"NO!" she wailed, standing up and pacing across his living room. "Of course not! Do you think that I'd…" She nearly lost her breath, unable to finish her question. She stared at the ceiling for several long moments, willing her pulse rate to slow down. "I… I hadn't planned on t-telling anybody until it was too late, you know?" She turned toward him, not giving him a chance to offer any answers to her rhetorical question. "But I screwed up… I told another one o' the girls. I was… young and… so stupid," she said, shaking her head. "I mean, how the hell was I gonna raise a baby? But I wasn't thinking about that… All I was thinking about was that… there was a life inside o' me… growing… someone who would… love me… I was so tired of having things taken away… of losing people… So… I figured that… no one could take away what was mine… I mean, really mine…" She looked at him forlornly. "But I was wrong."

"Bev," he whispered, his voice raspy. "I'm so sorry."

She inhaled a shaky breath, pushing through the rest of the story. "After the beating didn't work… I was dragged to the back of my pimp's van and… when we got to the border, he… he threatened to set me on fire if I… made any noise."

Marco felt his stomach clench and for a moment, he thought he might vomit.

Beverly continued; she had come too far to stop now. "I don't remember crossing the border, but I remember pulling up to the back of a clinic… It was already dark… I remember being held down… and some kind of a cloth being placed over my nose and mouth… and… when I woke up… It was over." She hung her head.

Marco stood up, slowly walking over to her. Everything made sense now. He understood why she had reacted so strongly to the possibility of a pregnancy… and to the heartbreak of finding out that she wasn't. Slowly, so as not to startle her, he walked up behind her and carefully wrapped his arms around her, turning her so that she was facing him.

"Oh, M-Mar-co," she wept.

"Sshhh," he soothed. "I'm so sorry for what you went through, but please understand, Bev… You didn't do anything wrong."

"But… I… my baby…"

"No… the wrong was done TO you… and to your baby. You didn't choose this outcome, did you?" Marco asked, holding her upper arms so he could look into her eyes.

"No… but… your faith says that-"

"I know what my beliefs are… and I believe that what happened to you was wrong… YOU did nothing wrong, baby… Not by anyone's standards…. Not mine, not the church's, and certainly not God's."

"But God's punishing me for not being religious and…"

Marco knit his eyebrows together. "You weren't raised with any sort of religious training during your childhood, and then you were basically tossed out onto the streets as a teenager. You've attended Mass with me, so I was kind of hoping that you'd decide to become Catholic."

Beverly looked down, still holding onto him. "I was hoping to, Marco, but what if they won't let me because of-"

"Whoa… the Christian faith is about forgiveness and a fresh start. I can't think of anyone who deserves a fresh start any more than you. So, if you want to become Catholic, then that won't be a problem, but…" Remembering her previous comment, he returned the conversation in that direction. "How do you think that God has punished you?

"I dunno… I mean, what if…" She looked up into his caring brown eyes. "What if… I can't… give you children?"

Marco felt like he had been gut-punched. It wasn't her anxiety of being pregnant that had been so overwhelming to her; it was her fear that she never would be. "We'll be parents, Bev. And we're gonna be great parents… either to our own biological children… or to the children we adopt… but either way… I know that you'll be the best Mom in the world."

Beverly felt the hot liquid streaming from the corners of her eyes. "You mean… You still wanna… marry me?"

"Of course!" Marco said, with a renewed sense of pride. "In fact… I want to marry you more than ever!"

He leaned his face down, his lips capturing hers. He could taste the saltiness of her tears, but he felt the love in her heart. She really did love him, and she trusted him enough to share her most secret pain. The kiss deepened, and Beverly melted into his arms. She was exhausted, but felt a new sense of self-worth. When the kiss finally ended, it was Marco who spoke first.

"Now, promise me two things, okay?"

"Okay."

"No more secrets… promise?"

Beverly smiled up at him, relishing the feel of his strong arms holding her up. "I promise."

"Atta girl," he replied, using his free hand to push her hair behind her ear. "I am so sorry that you had to endure that, and if you ever want to talk to me about it more, then I'm here for you… today and always."

"Thank you… Um, what's the second promise?"

"Why don't you stop taking your birth control pills. We'll have to control ourselves between now and our wedding night, but… maybe we can start a family right away."

Beverly felt her lower lip trembling and her eyes stinging once again. She tried to speak, but only a raspy sound escaped her lips. She nodded her agreement. "Most Catholics don't use them anyway, right?"

Again, their lips met, this time in a more chaste manner.

"You mean the world to me, Beverly."

"I love you so much," she whispered back. She was protected now; she was no longer that horrified sixteen-year old girl who suddenly found herself restrained on an exam table in a hot and dusty clinic somewhere in Mexico. Maybe… just maybe, God had found favor with her and had forgiven her for her past. But would He be willing to grant her a second chance to be a mother? She felt Marco shift slightly.

"Now… Why don't we talk about you applying to grad school next semester?"

Beverly reached for her glass of water. After taking a few gulps, she snuggled back against his warm body. "How about if I apply for next Fall? That way I could get used to married life, and maybe save up a little money since I'll be living here."

"Whatever you want, Bev… Whatever you want."

E!

In Mike's apartment, Lexi tiptoed to his bedroom to use the phone. She knew he was completely exhausted and she didn't want to wake him. She slowly eased the door closed before sitting on the edge of his bed and reaching for the phone. She dialed the familiar number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Marco; it's Lexi," she whispered.

Alarm bells sounded like klaxons in the lineman's brain. "Lexi, what's wrong?" he asked, worriedly. "Why are you whispering?"

"I'm at Mike's and… well, he fell asleep. He's really tired and I didn't want to wake him so… Can you come and get me? I need to get home."

He glanced over at Beverly who was sitting close enough to overhear the conversation. She quickly nodded her head. "Yea… I'll be there in about 15 minutes."

"Thanks, Marco. I knew I could count on you. I'll be downstairs on the sidewalk by the parking lot waiting for you," she said.

She hung up the phone, then sat staring at Mike's dresser beside her. There was his wallet, still in the same place. She needed money to carry out her plan. He probably wouldn't miss it….

E!

Beverly stood up, turning back to look at her future husband. His eyes were red, but there was no judgment in them. "Why don't you run me home before you pick her up? I'll be fine," she said, a smile finally making an appearance. "Besides… I want to be there when Bri gets home and Lexi and I are going to look at dresses tomorrow, so I'd like to get some rest."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said, waiting for Marco to stand up. She followed him to the door, and when he held it open for her, she gave him a quick kiss. "Sometimes, I wonder if you're real… Thank you."

E!

Fifteen minutes later, Lexi shouldered her purse, dropped the note she had written onto Mike's coffee table where he would be sure to see it, then quietly left the apartment, locking the door behind her.

Mike's sleep-fogged brain heard the clicking of his front door closing. His eyes opened momentarily. He looked around the room with eyelids at half-mast, then slowly laid down on the sofa, snuggling a small pillow beneath his head as he curled onto his side. His eyes drifted closed, and his breathing became deep and even once again.

Outside of his apartment complex, Lexi stood beneath a streetlight waiting for her brother to arrive. She crossed her arms over her chest, shivering in the coolness of the autumn evening. She watched as cars passed by on the street and felt a strange sense of familiarity. Without thinking, she began pacing back and forth, never wandering beyond the light offered by the street lamp. She had learned long ago that danger lurked in the shadows – no matter which corner she was on.

Across the parking lot, a young man pocketed the drugs he had just discreetly purchased in the vacant lot across the street. He walked back to the place where he had parked his vehicle in the safety of the quiet apartment complex, lighting up a fresh cigarette while getting into his car. He inhaled a deep drag, blowing out the smoke through his downed window. He was about to crank it up when he saw a pretty young woman standing alone beneath the streetlight near the complex. He watched her for a few minutes, recognizing the meandering stroll. She had to be a working girl. He crushed the butt out in his car's ashtray as a wicked grin crawled across his face. He cranked up his car, moving it closer to the place where she stood, grateful that there were a few empty parking spaces close by. He eased to a stop, paralleling across two spaces so he could speak to her. If she was what he thought she was, then perhaps she would take the bait he was about to offer. If not, he would be able to make a quick exit.

"Hey, pretty lady… You need a lift?"

Lexi looked at him, her gut clenching. "Uh, no… my brother will be here any minute."

"Brother, huh?" he scoffed. "Well, where ever you're goin', I can give you a ride," he said, his pearly teeth peeking out from behind his curled upper lip.

Lexi continued pacing. She knew he wasn't a good Samaritan. He wanted to do her harm; she was sure of it. Deciding to engage him, rather than provoke him, she stopped her pacing and turned to face him. He didn't shift his car into park; he was prepared for a quick getaway. "So… Do you just hang out in parking lots waiting to rescue damsels in distress?" she asked, the bold facade from her past making an appearance. It felt oddly familiar and, in a strange way, comfortable.

He grinned, fishing another cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it. "I only offer rides to the pretty ones," he said with a grimace, lowering his right hand to his crotch. He shifted his position, holding the cigarette out the window and tapping off the ashes. "You'd like the ride I'd give ya, baby."

Lexi rolled her eyes, knowing he wasn't talking about a trip in his car.

"You smoke?" he asked, eyeing her up and down, hungrily.

"Nope," she said, starting to pace again, turning in the opposite direction, edging closer to the stairway back to Mike's apartment. She heard the man shift gears and saw the car backing up slowly to match her position.

"That's too bad. I'd sure like to see how you blow…" he snickered, hesitating until she looked at him. "Smoke, I mean," he guffawed at his own lewdness.

She searched the parking lot and the street, her heart thudding inside her chest. When the man waved a ten-dollar bill out of his window, she froze. Where was her brother?

E!

"Are you sure you're okay? I can come back after I take Lexi home," Marco said, pulling Beverly close to his side as he pulled up to her apartment.

"I'm fine, really. I… appreciate the talk and…" She hesitated, looking down into her lap then back up at her fiancé. "I love you more than anything in this world, Marco. You know that, right?"

"Yes… Yes, I do. And I love you, Beverly. I can't wait for our wedding."

Beverly pulled back from him with a knowing smile. "But, we are going to wait… Right?"

Marco leaned in for a quick kiss. "Yes, good things come to those who wait."

His comment and the look on his face made her giggle. She was tired, drained both physically and emotionally, but her heart felt lighter than ever.

Marco watched, making sure that she entered her apartment safely, before backing out of her driveway. He strummed his fingers on his steering wheel, humming to himself as he drove to Mike's apartment complex.

E!

Lexi listened as the young man continued to make sexual innuendos, and not so subtly offering to pay her for a quick service. She had done it countless times before and the money he was offering would be a great start for what she needed to do. She squared up her shoulders to face him, opening her mouth to speak, when she saw the familiar burgundy sedan turning into the apartment complex.

"Um, there's my brother… I gotta go," she said, waving her hand to ensure that Marco would see her.

"Damn it," the young man cursed, dropping the money onto the floorboard of his car, shoving the lit cigarette into his mouth, and quickly shifting gears. He drove across the parking lot, peeling into the street as he rapidly shifted through the gears, getting away from the complex as quickly as he could.

Lexi quickly jumped into the front seat of Marco's car. "Thanks for picking me up."

Marco saw the pained expression on her face, and the quick exit of the other car had not gone unnoticed by him. "Are you okay, sis?"

"Yea," she said, fighting to keep her voice calm. "I just didn't want to wake Michael. He worked a double and he was tired."

Marco gave her one last look, making sure that she didn't appear to have been harmed in any way. He pulled out into traffic before speaking again. "So… who was in the car?"

"W-what car?"

"C'mon, Lex. The car that was pulled up beside you when I turned in. You were talking to somebody."

"Oh… him. Um, he was just asking if there were any vacancies in Michael's complex. I told him that I didn't know because I was just visiting, and he… he left… That's all."

Marco pressed his lips into a thin line. He didn't believe her. Something was going on with his sister, and as soon as he got a chance, he was going to talk to his engineer about it.

E!

Sometime after midnight, Mike was startled awake by a siren screaming past his building. He pushed himself up from his sofa, his muddled brain still in a haze. He ran his hand down his face, then remembered that he and Lexi had been talking before he had fallen asleep. His eyes widened.

"Lexi?" he called out. "You still here?"

His calls were met by silence. As he pushed himself off the sofa, he saw the note laying on his coffee table.

'Michael,

I hope you slept well. I know you're tired and I didn't want to wake you up. Marco came and got me, so don't worry. Maybe we can talk later.

Lexi'

Mike sighed, a mixture of frustration and relief flooding him. He turned his wrist, squinting his eyes to see the time. Realizing that it was after midnight, he ran his hand through his hair. He couldn't call her now because he didn't want to wake up Mrs. Lopez and Antonio, but there was something unsettling in her behavior when their talk began. He had to know she was okay. He padded down the short hallway, plopping down on his bed and reaching for his phone. He had to confirm that she had made it home safely.

He quickly dialed his friend's number. When he heard the groggy voice on the other end, he quickly spat out his apology. "Marco, sorry. It's Mike. Did-"

"She's fine, Mike. I picked her up and took her home," Marco broke in. He could tell his friend was nervous.

"Oh, thank God," the engineer said, allowing himself to relax a little. "I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to-"

"Mike, what are you apologizing for? I've pulled doubles before, too. I know how it is."

"I know… but I shouldn't've fallen asleep on her. She…," he began, trying to lick his lips, but his mouth was dry and sticky. He knew he had fallen asleep with his mouth open. "She was wanting to talk and… Did she happen to, uh… say anything?"

Marco was about to tell him about the stranger in the car who was talking to Lexi when he arrived, but he thought better of it. She had assured him that the man had only been interested in renting an apartment. He had to learn to trust her. "No… No, she didn't. She just said that you were tired and she didn't want to wake you."

"Alright… I'll give her a call in the morning," the engineer said, stifling a yawn.

"Uh, Mike?"

"Yea?"

"It is morning," Marco said, snickering.

"Geez, you've been hanging around Chet too long. I'll see you on Sunday, pal."

"See you then, Mike."

Marco hung up the phone, then lay back down staring into the darkness of his bedroom. His thoughts turned to all the guys at the station. Chet was happy and getting married. Their captain had decided not to resign, and he and Becca seemed to have gotten their marriage back on track. Their senior medic had repaired his marriage and was helping plan a surprise party for their junior medic who had no idea that the woman he love enough to nearly die for was going to be there. Marco and Beverly were about to wed in just a few short weeks. What had begun as a disastrous year seemed as though it might end on a positive note for everyone – everyone except Mike. Mike Stoker was one of the nicest men Marco had ever known. He just wished that his own sister could see what she was doing to him. He had heard Beverly say it many times – the women she helped escape from prostitution returned to their pimps more often than domestic violence victims returned to their abusers. It took them twice as long to escape as it did a battered woman. Was it possible that in spite of everything that had been done for her, Lexi was going to go back to Ricardo when he was released?

E!

Mike Stoker stared at his coffee cup, not really seeing the wisps of steam rising from it. It was early on Sunday morning and the station was quiet. He had spent most of Saturday morning doing chores and trying to call Lexi, but Mrs. Lopez had told him that she and Beverly had gone shopping for the upcoming nuptials. Then headquarters had called asking him to split a shift with the B-shift engineer. He had left a message with Mrs. Lopez to let Lexi know he was called into work and that he would try to call her when he had a break, but that break never came until after midnight.

"Thanks again, Stoker," Hookraider said, dropping the morning paper in front of the engineer.

"Yea, no problem," Mike commented, opening to the sports section. Over the next hour he perused the pages of the LA Times without comprehending a single word. By the time Captain Stanley called for roll call, Mike realized that he had gone through the entire paper and couldn't remember a single headline.

The men of A-shift stood shoulder to shoulder in the apparatus bay. Their captain stood facing them, clipboard in hand.

"Alright, men… C-shift had a busy night so we're going to have to work on the hoses." Hank looked up at his crew. "Kelly, kitchen; please go easy on the spices, pal," he snickered. "Um, Stoker and Lopez, you'll have the hoses. DeSoto, you'll have the dorm, and Gage, take the latrine. Let's have a safe shift, fellas."

"A'right, Chet, how much damage are ya gonna do to my wallet today?" Johnny asked, reaching for his back pocket.

"Not as much as you did to my locker last shift," the Irishman huffed. "But just be aware that the Phantom knows all… the Phantom sees all…"

"And it looked like the Phantom did it all in your locker," Roy deadpanned, remembering the gooey mess from the previous shift.

"Aww, c'mon, fellas, that was Gage's mess, not the Phantom's. Besides, I can be a very frugal cook," Chet commented, innocently.

"I'd say Caroline has been better for you than I first thought," Marco added, opening his wallet as he waited for his partner to announce the cost of their meals for the next shift.

"A buck fifty each," the junior lineman stated, rocking back on his heels as money was shoved at him.

Mike opened his wallet, glad that he had broken the twenty on Friday. He withdrew a dollar, then his faced morphed in confusion. He quickly thumbed through the remaining bills, adding them quickly in his head. He had cashed a forty-dollar check and received two twenty-dollar bills back. After the trip by the corner market and purchasing the burgers and fries, he should have had a few singles, a ten, and a twenty left… but the ten-dollar bill was missing. He held the single dollar bill then fished in his front pocket for a couple of quarters. He had thought his change bowl had seemed a little bare when he left home yesterday, but he had simply dismissed it. Now he wondered if perhaps he had been right. He handed the money to Chet then returned his attention to his wallet. He recounted each purchase, knowing how many bills and of what denomination he received in return. So, what could have happened to the missing money?

"Lose something, Mike?" Marco asked, noting the look of concern on his engineer's face.

"Um… yea… I think so," Mike said, slapping his wallet closed. "I've got to go check in my locker and see if it's in there. I'll meet you out back," he added, knowing that the two of them had a lot of hose to hang, and a lot to talk about.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: My apologies for the delay in getting this chapter out, but real life has had me exceptionally busy lately. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep this story moving along to the finish from this point on. Thanks to everyone who is still reading it. There are no words to tell you just how much I appreciate you.

Warning: extreme language

Chapter 11

The morning sun was beating down on the two firemen as they finished hanging hose behind the station. Thankfully, the crisp autumn air kept them cool. Marco climbed down from the hose tower, noting the serious look on his engineer's face. Their work had been completed with minimal conversation, but with the other men busy with their respective chores, and the tones maintaining their silence, now Marco had time to question his friend.

"Find what you were looking for in your locker?" the lineman asked, stepping off the bottom rung and leaning against the metal post.

Mike looked down at his shadow, toeing at a stray sprig of grass growing up in a crack in the cement. It was trying desperately to survive where the seed had found a hint of dirt, but it wasn't thriving. He twisted his foot, putting it out of its misery, then cringed at the metaphor he had inadvertently created in his own mind. Failing to grow where she had been inadvertently planted… Someone deciding her life wasn't worth the effort and snuffing her out…

"Mike?"

The engineer's head jerked upwards at the sound of his name. "Hmm?"

Marco grimaced; he knew that whatever was bothering his friend, Lexi had to be a part of it. "I asked if you'd found whatever it was you'd lost?"

Mike considered his words carefully, looking over at the other man. "Can I tell you something… and… you not get mad at me?"

Marco crossed his arms over his chest, feeling his defenses rising. He saw the sincerity on Mike's face and knew this was serious. "Yea… It's about Lexi, isn't it?"

Mike nodded his head. "I want to trust her, but… I just… Marco, you're the only person I know to talk to about this… the only person who might understand, but…" The engineer looked intently at his friend. "I need for you to listen as my friend… not as Lexi's brother."

The older man exhaled loudly. "I can't stop being her brother, but I also won't stop being your friend. Whatever it is… Just say it… Please?" Marco had his own questions and concerns about his sister, and he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he and Mike were concerned about the same things.

Mike looked back down at his boots. "Sometime between Friday afternoon and this morning… ten bucks got stolen out of my wallet."

Marco pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're sure?"

"Positive."

"And you think Lexi did it?" the lineman asked, no hint of judgment in his voice. He knew it couldn't have happened at the station.

"No one else could've done it, Marco. I know how much was in there on Friday after I cashed a check. I've gone over every penny I spent Friday afternoon. While Lexi was there Friday night, I got in the shower and when I came out of my bathroom, my bedroom door was open. I always… always close my bedroom door when I get in the shower." The engineer ran a finger beneath his nose, much like he had seen their junior paramedic do when he was thinking or worried about something. Any other time, he would have found this learned behavior humorous, but this was no laughing matter. "I never left my apartment until this morning, and no one else visited me. I don't know who else could've taken it."

"There's no way you could've dropped it… or…"

Mike gave his friend a knowing look.

"I know, Mike… I'm just trying to…" Marco shifted his position, turning his back to Mike for a brief moment. When he turned back around to face the engineer, he spoke from his heart. "Mike… I haven't told anybody else this, not even Beverly… When I got to your apartment Friday night to pick Lexi up, she was standing on the sidewalk… there was a guy in a car pulled up close to her… and… he sped away when she waved at me, but…"

Mike felt his gut clench and bile began rising in the back of his throat. "But?"

"I asked Lexi about it, but she tried to convince me that the guy was just asking if there were any vacancies in your complex."

Mike gave a sarcastic snort. "You mean those big signs by the road saying 'move in special' and 'vacancies' didn't answer his question?"

"I know… I didn't believe her, either."

Mike watched Marco unfold his arms and shove his hands into his pockets. There was something his friend wasn't telling him. "Marco?"

The older man closed his eyes. "I know I saw him holding out his hand to her and… there was money in it."

"WHAT?" Mike questioned, squaring his shoulders up with the other man.

Marco raised his hands, palms out. "I know, man. I know… but I also know what I saw."

"You think she's… doing it again?" He didn't have to explain what 'it' was.

"I don't know… I don't know what to think… but why would she take money from you?" As soon as he asked the question, his eyes widened.

Mike, knowing exactly what his friend was thinking, immediately halted Marco's runaway sordid thoughts. "NO! No, we didn't do anything, I swear. So… No, she didn't take money for… ahem… services rendered, alright?" the engineer remarked.

"Mike, I wasn't thinking that, I promise, but… what if she's on drugs?"

Mike's blue eyes darkened. "She wasn't on anything. You know that as well as I do. We would've seen the signs by now… and… Beverly wouldn't have let her stay at the shelter if she was a junkie."

Marco ran his fingers over his mustache. "Then what else could it be? Do you think she owes somebody some money?"

Mike shook his head. "That bastard, Ricardo, is in jail; at least for a little while longer. Who else could she owe?"

"Listen to me, Mike. Beverly has told me stories about how pimps have other guys who watch their girls, to keep them in line… What if Ricardo has one of his guys following her and…"

"Threatening her?"

"Either threatening her, or someone she loves." Marco commented, casting a glance at the ground. "Did she say anything that night?"

Mike rubbed his forehead. "She apologized to me… offered to give me a back massage… she was being nice."

"Too nice?"

Mike's piercing blue eyes tried to discern what the lineman was trying to say. "You think she could've been setting me up, somehow?"

"I dunno."

Mike shook his head, a mixture of anger and frustration coloring his face. "She sure was insistent about the back rub. Maybe she WANTED me to fall asleep, so she could… um… take the money." He hated being the accuser.

Marco ran a hand through his dark hair. "A year ago, I would've said it was crazy to think that any woman would do something like that to you, especially my own family. But after learning all I've learned from Beverly, and from watching Lexi and Bri after their rescues… Well, if she's paying off some kind of debt, then… I have no doubt that she'd steal what she needs."

"Stealing would be easier for her than telling us the truth, wouldn't it?" Mike added.

"And she might've been trying to do something to, um, pay you back for what she was planning on stealing," Marco said, his own words stabbing his heart.

Mike sat down on one of the lower rungs of the hose tower ladder. He leaned his elbows on his thighs. "Oh, Jesus, Marco… She didn't have to steal it. All she had to do was ask me. I would've given it to her… more, if she needed it."

"You know she couldn't do that," Marco said softly, his dark eyes scanning the back of the station to make sure that none of the other men could overhear their conversation. "If she's in trouble with Ricardo… owes him money, then… she can't tell us… She can't tell anyone."

"And if she can't pay the extortion money, then… she'll go back, won't she?"

Marco didn't answer the question. The thought of his sister going back out onto the streets was more than he could handle. "I need to talk to Beverly about all this." He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet.

Mike saw what he was doing and rolled his eyes. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Marco? You don't owe me anything."

"I need to make this right, Mike."

Mike stood up, looking Marco in his eyes. "I don't need your money, but Lexi might. Give it to her."

"She won't accept charity. You should hear her complaining about being on welfare for Antonio," Marco sighed, repocketing his wallet; he could tell by the tone of Mike's voice that he wasn't going to accept the gesture.

"Then what do I do? I can't let her go around thieving… and I sure as hell won't let her sell herself, Mike!"

"I've invited her over to finish our talk. Maybe I'll leave a few dollars lying around and…" He released an audible sigh. "I hate setting her up," he admitted.

"But we've got to know for sure that it's her… That she's resorting to stealing," Marco added, his voice strained. "But if she is… We've got to help her… but how? We don't even know what she needs the money for."

Mike's voice softened. "We'll find a way to help her, Marco. We have to."

E!

"Packin' already?"

Lily glanced over her shoulder at her mother, then returned to folding her clothes, a smile on her blushing face. "Maybe."

Iris slowly sauntered over to her daughter's side. "Lilianna Campbell," she said softly, using her daughter's formal name. "I know you miss him. But just a few more days and we'll be back in Los Angeles." She picked up a sweater she had recently purchased for her daughter. It was a soft peach color, perfectly complimenting her daughter's mocha complexion. She carefully folded it and placed it neatly on the bed beside Lily's other clothes. "Does he have any idea about the party?"

"I don't think so," Lily replied. "I've been keeping my phone calls short."

The older woman raised one eyebrow in her daughter's direction. "Why? I know it isn't the cost of the calls since you make them late at night."

Lily blushed, curling her hair behind her ear. "Because I'm afraid I'll let something slip," she giggled. "I don't want to ruin the surprise party." She angled her head at her mother. "Do you think he'll be mad at me when he finds out why I haven't been talking to him much?"

Iris placed both hands on Lily's shoulders, shifting the girl so that they were looking eye to eye. "I think he might be feeling a little unimportant to you right now, but when he sees you standing there on the DeSotos' deck, I believe that crooked grin you love so much will definitely make an appearance."

Lily's white smile lit up the room. "Oh, Mom… He melts my heart," she said, smoothing out a pair of jeans that she had just folded. She needed to keep her hands busy, and she just couldn't bear to look at her mother when she asked her the next question. "Did my Dad melt your heart, too?"

Iris sat down on the edge of the bed, patting the spot beside her. When her daughter complied with the unspoken request, she reached over, grasping Lily's trembling hand. "Yes… Yes, he did. I'm glad you made this trip back to Selma with me. I hope it's given you a better understanding of what hindered our relationship back then. But our love for each other was so much stronger than the bigotry and hatred that tried to separate us. And it was that love that created you, baby girl."

Lily nodded, not trusting her voice.

"I've seen the way you two look at each other," Iris added, needing to say what was on her heart. "It's the same way your dad and I used to look at each other." She wrapped her daughter in a warm sideways embrace. "I want you to have what your dad and I had, sweetheart. But I want you to have it for many years. He was taken from us too soon, but I know in my heart that he knew how much I loved him."

Lily felt her eyes stinging. "Should my next call be longer?"

Iris released her daughter. With twinkling eyes, she snickered. "That all depends… Can you have a serious, meaningful conversation with him without giving away the surprise party?"

Lily felt herself blushing at the thought, but didn't respond.

"John may come across as shallow at times, but we both know that he feels things very deeply and passionately. I would hate for him to feel like you're brushing him off, but I also know what a wonderful surprise the party will be. He deserves to know how much his station family cares for him… but he deserves to know how you feel, too."

Lily sighed, feeling torn by the dilemma. "I hate lying to him, but I think he'll forgive me under the circumstances."

Now it was Iris' turn to look at her daughter, questioningly. "What kind of tale have you concocted?"

"Nothing crazy," Lily said. "I just told him that our flight will be getting in on Sunday. That way, he won't have to change his work schedule to plan to pick us up at the airport. I didn't want him to schedule a vacation day when it's all a ruse. He's gonna be so shocked to see me early," Lily said, standing up and returning to her task at hand. "I've given him all our flight details, but instead of telling him that we were going to be arriving at LAX on Friday afternoon, I just told him that it'll be Sunday evening. Oh, Momma… I can hardly wait."

E!

The sound of the klaxons sent the men of Station 51 scrambling, but the paramedics were stopped in their tracks when only the engine was called out. Roy rushed over to open the bay door, allowing Mike to maneuver the engine into the yielding traffic.

Johnny began humming to himself as he wandered back into the day room. He scratched Henry on the head, offering the lazy hound a crooked grin when the animal relaxed further, barely wagging his tail in appreciation.

Roy followed Johnny into the dayroom, wondering what had his partner in such a good mood. The dark-haired man loved animals, but for some reason, neither of the station mascots had been very fond of the junior medic. Of course, Henry did not display his disdain in quite the same way as Boot. Where Boot had been more prone to growling, Henry tended more towards snorts, eyerolls, and yawns.

"Warming up to you?" Roy asked.

"Nah… He'll let anybody scratch him behind his ears."

"You seem to be in a pleasant mood… Talk to Lily while we were off?" Roy asked, curious.

Johnny suddenly had a spring in his step. "As a matter of fact, I sure did," he said, straightening up to his full height. "She and Iris will be flying into LAX exactly one week from today, and since we're off, I'll be picking them up." The grin on his face was contagious.

Roy, deciding to play it cool so as not to give away any secrets, spoke up. "That's great, Johnny. And since Lily won't be home yet, you have no excuse to back out of trick-or-treating with me and the kids. Chet's bringing Corrie over and Marco is going to bring Antonio. Joanne's already planning the menu for us. It'll be fun, and it'll take your mind off Lily."

"I'm not gonna change my mind, Pally. Even if I don't have a kiddo to bring along," Johnny snickered.

"Like hell you don't," Roy shot back with a chuckle. "Jennifer has already claimed you as her official escort for the night."

"Weeelll," Johnny laughed, sitting on the kitchen table with his feet in the seat of a chair – a position that had caused him a verbal reprimand more than once by their captain. "We can't deny the little lady her knight in shining armor, now can we?"

Roy rolled his eyes at Johnny's comments, but couldn't stop the laughter when he saw Johnny deftly swatting at a fly that buzzed around his head.

"Ah, man," Johnny groused, quickly retrieving the flyswatter to exterminate the offending pest. "It must've heard Cap assign kitchen duty to Chet," he said, contorting his face as the insect made another zooming lap around his shaggy head. Johnny stealthily followed the tiny fly until it made the mistake of landing briefly on the television set.

THWACK!

"HA! Got 'im!" Johnny announced, unnecessarily. Henry raised his head up at the sound, but quickly returned it to the sofa upon realizing that he was not the intended target. The pleased paramedic looked down at the dark form on the floor, tiny feet in the air. He kneeled down, carefully scooping the decedent's remains onto the yellow plastic surface of the weapon of its demise. He was heading over to the kitchen trash can, where Roy stood holding the lid open, when a sneer appeared on the handsome paramedic's face. "Nu-uh… I've got a better idea," he said, heading out the kitchen door into the apparatus bay.

Roy followed behind him, shaking his head. "Poor, Chet," the older man mumbled, knowing that the junior linemen would soon be the recipient of an unwanted gift.

Balancing the fly on the swatter, Johnny slowly made his way across the empty expanse where the engine normally was parked. Using his hip, he pushed the door of the latrine open, setting the swatter and its cargo on the bench in front of Chet's locker, before scurrying over to his own.

Roy looked on in silent amusement as his partner began setting up his next prank, knowing that 'The Phantom' would be caught off guard. "You might want to think this through, Junior."

Johnny pulled out the container he had hidden in the back of his locker. "Nah, I've thought about it enough… I've got plans for that little guy over there," he said, pointing his finger at the bench where the miniature body lay in repose atop the flyswatter, "and Chet's prob'ly gonna puke!"

"Johnny…"

"C'mon, Roy," Johnny began, removing the lid and scooping out a little of the contents, forming a heap on the locker shelf that resembled a toxic scoop of ice cream. "You know that Chester B. Kelly has tormented me since the first day this station opened." He carefully lifted the swatter, dumping the remains strategically on the peak of the gelatinous goo. "Oh, yea… this is great," the pranking medic commented to himself, closing the door of the locker and heading to the nearest sink to wash his hands.

"Aren't you gonna say a prayer or something for the dearly departed?" Roy asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Nope," Johnny replied, drying his hands with a paper towel and dropping it into the wastebasket. "But feel free to say a prayer for Chet, if you want. He's gonna need it."

"Not if Cap finds out what you did just now. 'Cause if he does, you'll be the one needing prayers."

Before Johnny could respond, the klaxons sounded, toning the paramedics out on a medical run.

"Man, I hope I'm here when Kelly opens his locker," Johnny grumbled, tightening his chin strap as Roy pulled the squad into traffic for their first run of the day.

E!

Lexi opened up the middle drawer of the desk in her bedroom. She had been keeping a journal ever since escaping from Ricardo. It was part of her therapy that was started at the Wellhouse. She turned to the first blank page, staring at the folded up ten-dollar bill she had stashed there. It wasn't much, but it was a start. She was going to need quite a bit more and she didn't have much time to get it. She looked up from her desk, seeing the beautiful new yellow dress hanging on the back of her closet door. It was the dress she would be wearing at the wedding in just a few weeks. It was the most beautiful garment she had ever owned. She knew that Marco had paid for it, and his intension was for her to keep it. But her circumstances dictated differently. Beneath the ten-dollar bill was a folded receipt for the dress. If she was careful not to spill anything on it, then she should be able to return it to the store after the wedding. The dress had cost $46.00 and that refund would go a long way in carrying out her plan.

Setting the money and receipt aside, she picked up her pen and began to pour her heart out into the journal. It was the only place where she could be honest about her life and what was happening to her. And she knew it was safe, because the one thing that Beverly had repeatedly told her family was that they could never read her journal entries, and never ask her questions about her time on the streets. They had to wait for Lexi to tell them what she wanted them to know. The parts they knew were bad enough, but there was one part of her time away from them that she never, ever wanted them to know about; and if all went well over the next couple of months, then she would be able to take her secret to her grave.

She clicked the end of the blue pen she had stored in the drawer for her journaling, and began spilling her random thoughts on the page. Her previous therapist had told her not to worry about how her statements sounded; they didn't even have to be in complete sentences. The idea was to simply get what was festering inside of her soul out into the open. Then she had to read it back to herself in the hopes she would gain some insight.

She began the process as she always did – jotting down words that seemed to manifest inside her head of their own accord. She didn't bother to read what she was writing; she simply wrote at a feverish pace, hesitating as she neared the end of the page.

Again, she stared at the dress hanging on the back of her closet door. She considered the beauty in the simple A-line garment. The elbow-length gloves were neatly folded in a box on her dresser and her matching shoes were in a box on her closet floor. She wished she could somehow return the gloves and shoes for a refund, but that would be impossible. The wedding was outside, so the shoes would have dirt on them… And she had another purpose for the gloves.

She reached up, twirling her hair around her index finger as she thought of the contrasting beauty of the clothing, and her perceived ugliness of the young woman who would be wearing it. She already dreaded having to look into the mirror as she took great care to prepare for the big day. She had neither worn heavy make-up nor styled her hair in a sweeping up-do since her time on the streets. She would do it for Marco and Beverly – she owed them that much – but their wedding day would be the absolute last time she would try to make herself look pretty. She could hide her true feelings for just a little longer. She had to.

With a heavy sigh, she lowered her gaze and stared at the words she had just written, feeling them assaulting her like tiny electrical shocks. HATE… BITTERNESS… MISERY… USELESS… HOPELESS… REGRET… LONGING… NO WAY OUT… TRAPPED… TOO LATE… LIES… EMBARRASSMENT… UNFORGIVEABLE… SORRY… I'M SO SORRY…

She felt her lower lip begin to tremble. This was her real journal, not the fake one she had used to get out of attending more therapy sessions. As far as anyone else knew, she had managed to make the transition from working the circuit as an underage prostitute, back to a happy home life with her family. It had been a little rocky, but somehow, she had managed to keep the truth hidden. Bri had almost revealed Lexi's secret shame at the DA's office, and that's when she had made the decision to follow an alternate course for her future.

Obviously, her future sister-in-law had caught a glimpse of her internal upheaval because she had spent most of their time shopping talking about how great her new therapist was, and how the woman had somehow managed to relieve so much stress from Beverly and Marco's relationship with only one session. Beverly had made several requests for Lexi to schedule an appointment with the new therapist, but Lexi had staunchly refused. How could she waste someone's time pretending to be working on her personal issues when she really wasn't? How could she make them think she actually wanted to feel better, when the truth was, she didn't? She had to control her anger, nurture it and grow it, until she could harness it and use it in the most beneficial way possible. As difficult as the next couple of months would be, it would be worth it all in the end. She had to protect her family – especially Antonio.

Lexi jerked her head up at the sound of car doors outside. She hid her journal back inside her desk, then stepped over to the window for a peek. She saw Antonio bounding towards the front door. A quick glance at her alarm clock confirmed what she already knew. She had lost track of time. Her mother and Antonio were returning from church. She had made an excuse about a headache, knowing that her mother hadn't believed her, but she was grateful that her mother had taken Antonio to Mass without insisting on Lexi attending.

Lexi retrieved the coins she had taken from Mike's apartment on Friday night, depositing them in her purse as she walked out of her room.

Maria saw her daughter coming down the stairs and felt her breath hitch in her throat. Lexi's face had returned to the dark and sullen appearance she had when Mike had rescued her from her burning apartment. It was a shadow that sent a cold chill up Maria's spine. The older woman shuddered, but forced a smile onto her face.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes," Lexi replied, offering her son a smile as he climbed onto the sofa. "Antonio? Did you get sleepy during the service again?"

"It's boring," the child said, yawning as he snuggled into the closest pillow.

"It is not boring, Ant," Maria chided. "Worshipping our Lord is not boring."

The child knew not to push his grandmother when it came to her faith. Instead, he remained silent, allowing a nap to overtake him.

Lexi returned her attention to her mother. "Um, do you mind if I borrow the car? I really need to talk to Bri… apologize, you know?"

Maria offered her daughter a weary smile. "I think that's a wonderful idea." She held out the keys that she was still holding in her hand. "Please be careful. LA drivers are _**loco**_ _!_ "

Lexi accepted the proffered keys. "I know how crazy the drivers are, Mama. I'll be careful," she said, giving her mother a quick kiss on the cheek, hoping she was keeping the façade going by her behavior. It was imperative that her mother not foil her plans by being overly protective today. "This may take a few hours, so don't worry about me, okay?" she tossed over her shoulder. "I won't be late."

Maria didn't respond. Her dark eyes followed Lexi out to the car, and as her daughter backed the car out of the driveway, Maria made the sign of the cross, silently praying for her safe return.

E!

At station 51, six exhausted firefighters disembarked from their respective vehicles. The afternoon sun was beginning to set, and the crew had been battling a large fire along the edges of the freeway. Gusting winds had carried the embers across the freeway, spreading the flames. Multiple stations had responded, and eventually, the fires had been quenched without causing any injuries. The fatigued and soot-covered men trudged towards the locker room, ready to take showers and settle in for what they all hoped would be a quiet night.

"Aw, man," Johnny groaned, stripping out of his sweat-soaked shirt to await his turn in the shower. "My arms are gonna be sore."

"Poor, Gagey," Chet cooed, as if he were talking to a small child. "Those little boxes you haul around jus' don't measure up to the hose us real firemen know how to pull."

The younger paramedic couldn't resist the temptation. He propped one foot on the bench in front of his locker, leaning a forearm across his elevated knee. "Oh, yea? I'm sure you do have a lot o' experience pulling on your own hose." He snorted through a chuckle as he made an obscene gesture with his right hand.

"Knock it off, will ya, fellas?" Mike spoke up, surprising everyone. He was tired and in no mood for the juvenile joisting the two youngest members of the crew seemed set on dishing out to each other. He quickly disrobed, slipping quietly into the respite of the shower stall.

Marco was the only one not stunned by the quiet one's uncharacteristic remarks. He began unbuttoning his own shirt, knowing that Mike would be quick in the shower and he was next. Beside him, Chet opened his locker, reaching in without taking his eyes off his nemesis. He was waiting for Mike to turn on the water, so the noise would drown out his next smart-aleck remark. When his hand reached to the top shelf for his toiletries kit, his fingers fell upon a cold, clammy mound.

"What the…?" Chet looked down at the green substance coating his fingers; the fly that seemed to have died in the icky goop was clinging to the end of his middle finger. "GAGE!"

Marco saw his friend lunging toward Johnny as the taller man backed up, pinning Roy against the wall. The senior lineman used his arms to reach beneath Chet's armpits, pulling the shorter man's arms up and back, away from his intended target.

"Lemme go," Chet yelled, twisting out of Marco's grasp, just as Hank pushed through the door from the dorm.

"What's goin' on in here?" the captain asked as he charged between the rows of lockers; he was in no mood to deal with station antics.

"THIS!" Chet said, raising not only his voice but his muck-adorned middle finger in the direction of his superior. "Oh, uh, I-I, um…" Realizing his error, he stammered and stuttered, reaching for a paper towel to remove the offending glob.

"John?" Hank turned, lifting his bushy eyebrows.

Johnny gulped and stumbled forward when Roy planted his flattened palms against the younger man's back and pushed, freeing himself from his confined space against the brick latrine wall.

"Um, I dunno, Cap."

"I call bullshit," Chet argued back, slamming the soiled paper towel into the wastebasket like it was a slam dunk in the fire service championship basketball game.

"Fucking twits," Mike mumbled, stepping out of the shower with only a towel covering his modesty. He walked briskly towards his locker, grateful that it was on the second row, away from the argumentative firemen.

While Mike began dressing in a clean uniform, Hank continued to sort through the muddled mess that was his two youngest crew members.

"Man, Chet hasn't even served us dinner yet, and he's already killin' flies," Johnny joked, hoping to avoid the wrath of a very pissed off fire captain by appealing to the older man's sense of humor. He failed.

"Okay, John. You make a great point. I can't have my men eating food cooked by a man who kills flies. So, perhaps you should take over kitchen duty for the rest of the shift… And perhaps the next few shifts, as well." He fought the urge to grin as Johnny's face flashed multiple shades of crimson. The paramedic was struggling to find the right words to get himself out of the predicament, when the tones dropped.

The men scrambled to their positions, their previous scuffle forgotten. Mike tucked his light blue shirt into his navy pants, finger-combing his wet hair as he made his way to the engine. Johnny pulled open the passenger's door of the squad, donning his helmet and tightening his chin strap as Roy passed the slip of paper with the address on it over to him.

Hank opened the bay door as he made his way to the officer's side of the engine, his long strides carrying him with practiced ease. The two linemen climbed into the jumpseats while Big Red rumbled to life.

Roy saw the worried look on Johnny's chiseled face while the younger man silently mouthed the address, recognition darkening his features. Roy saw him swallowing hard and felt his own mouth suddenly growing dry.

"Yea… It's the Pourhouse," the older man said, shifting into gear and heading out into the yielding traffic.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Sorry about the long break since my last update. Real life sometimes gets busy. I want to thank everyone for your continued support. I really appreciate you!

Chapter 12

Roy pulled the squad to a stop near the back of The Pourhouse, deftly dodging smoldering fragments of wood.

"What the hell…," Johnny mumbled, his somber eyes taking in the scorched remnants of a shelving unit piled just outside the back door.

The paramedics hurried from their squad, pulling on their turnout coats while Mike stopped briefly near the closest hydrant, allowing Chet and Marco to disembark. Chet looped his arm through the hose, so Mike could pull forward, laying the lines while Marco prepared to tap the hydrant. Behind the engine, Vince screeched his patrol car to a stop, blocking the street to keep onlookers at a safe distance.

Captain Stanley took charge, surveying the scene.

"Kelly, Lopez, inch and a half," the fire captain ordered, reaching back into the cab of the engine and lifting the microphone. "LA, Station 51 on scene. Respond an ambulance to our location. Time out 30 min."

"10-4, 51," the disembodied voice of the dispatcher responded.

As soon as Roy donned his turnout coat, he saw a young man in a soot-covered white dress shirt stumbling and coughing as he made his way out of the back door. Across one shoulder, he carried a young woman. Roy immediately recognized the waitress uniform and the long dark hair as belonging to Bri. He rushed to the young rescuer's aid.

"I've got her," he announced, carefully shifting the unconscious form onto his shoulder while Johnny assisted the man out onto the back lot.

"Ahua-hua, ev-ahua," the young man coughed, clearly trying to communicate with the paramedics.

"Is everyone out?" he asked, gently pushing his victim's shoulder until he laid down. Skilled eyes began a quick visual assessment of the patient while he adjusted the oxygen mask on the man's face.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vince easing Amy down beside the young man.

"Ye-ahua, yea," Amy answered for her customer who was breathing in the much needed oxygen. "Fella… ahua, knew wha-ahua, what he was doing."

"Amy, you okay?" Johnny asked, screwing in the antenna on the orange biophone.

"Ahua, yea, ahua-hua," she answered, her voice raspy from the smoke. "That shelf… fell on 'er," she continued, lifting a smutty arm in the direction of the smoldering wooden heap near the back entrance of the restaurant. "He…ahua, got it… off her."

"Just lay down and relax," Johnny ordered, then looked up at Vince. "Grab the oxygen off the engine, will ya?"

"You got it, man," the ebony officer replied, turning on his heels.

"Rampart this is squad 51, how do you read?" Johnny spoke into the biophone, wedging the handset between his shoulder and ear. He reached for his patient's wrist while he waited for a response. Behind him, he heard Roy's voice raise, his victim becoming combative.

"Go ahead 51," came the soothing voice of Dr. Joe Early.

"Rampart, we have three victims of a restaurant fire. Standby for vitals."

"Standing by," the kindly voice replied.

Johnny contorted his torso, glancing behind him to check on Roy and Bri. He saw Captain Stanley rushing to Roy's aid, and returned his attention to his two patients. He also saw Amy trying to get to her feet and gave Vince an appreciative nod when the officer prevented the older woman from getting up.

"No, you don't, ma'am. She's in good hands," the officer stated, placing the oxygen mask on her face. "Johnny?"

The dark-haired paramedic knew what Vince was asking and reached over to adjust the flow of oxygen a little higher. His anxiety level rose when he heard his captain's strained voice.

Hank struggled to restrain Bri. "Easy, Bri… Take it easy… Bri? BRI!" the fire captain yelled, struggling to restrain the confused young woman.

"Bri," Roy began, using an assertive voice instead of his usual calm-the-patient tone. "Hey, it's Roy… You're safe, Bri. You're gonna be alright. Just relax for me, okay? Take some deep breaths," he added, placing the ear pieces of his stethoscope into his ears and pumping up the blood pressure cuff. He glanced at their wide-eyed victim, noting the absolute terror in her eyes. Her head was shaking violently from side to side, then she began to wretch.

"Quick, Cap," Roy began, snatching the oxygen mask off of his patient. He helped Hank restrain Bri against the fire captain's chiseled chest to keep her from further injuring herself while turning to the side as she threw up. Roy felt a sense of relief when he heard Johnny talking to Dr. Early on the biophone.

"Rampart, victim number one is a female, approximately 23 years old. She has smoke inhalation and was being administered oxygen when she began vomiting. Be advised, she is combative and incoherent."

"10-4, 51," Dr. Early replied. "What are the vitals?"

Roy reached for the biophone, straddling his patient's thighs to help keep her immobilized while he answered Dr. Early's questions.

"BP 140/90, pulse 120, respiration rate 30, labored and shallow. She has smoke inhalation and was on 6 liters of oxygen by mask until she began vomiting. We've got her back on O2 via nasal cannula. She is combative. I haven't been able to calm her down enough to assess her further," the red-haired medic announced. He waited for instructions as his patient continued to fight both the firemen and her own stomach.

A few feet away, Amy and the restaurant patron were both concerned about Bri. Amy removed her mask long enough to question Johnny.

"Is… Is she… gonna be… okay?"

Johnny looked at her with a sense of compassion. He wasn't sure how to give her an honest answer. "She's in good hands, Amy. What happened in there?" he asked. He needed to gain as much information as he could for the medical staff at Rampart. Even the tiniest details could be significant.

"We were… making pastry dough… and… somethin'… blew up," she replied, taking deep inhalations between words.

The young man sat up, speaking into his oxygen mask. "I was… the only… customer…" He hesitated, staring at Captain Stanley restraining the young woman he had brought out of the fire. He noticed the number 51 on the helmets of the firemen, and he nearly choked. "Um… ahua… nobody smokin'… cigarettes inside… nothin' 'til… fireball… behind the… counter."

"Fireball?" Johnny asked, watching both Amy and the customer nodding. He noted how closely the young man was watching Captain Stanley and Roy. "Hey… They're takin' good care of her," he reassured them, "but anything you can remember will be helpful."

The young man nodded his understanding while holding the mask to his face, blinking his eyes rapidly as he looked away from the scene.

Johnny turned to Roy. "Whatcha need?"

Roy set down the biophone. "2 milligrams Lorazepam," he commented, continuing to sit on Bri's legs while Hank held her upper body, shifting her to the side each time she started to gag. Her raspy cries and gasping groans tugged at the hearts of everyone present. They knew that in her confused state, she had no idea who they were or why they were restricting her movements. Her natural instinct was to fight to get away from the perceived danger.

Johnny administered the drug, doing his best to assess her for injuries while the other men tried to keep her from further harming herself. He picked up the biophone to give Rampart an update.

"Rampart, this is squad 51."

"Go ahead 51."

"Rampart, Lorazepam has been administered, she has a minor laceration along her left cheek and first degree burns on her neck and chest, also numerous contusions from a wooden shelving unit falling on her. I'm unable to assess pupillary response at this time," he added, noting how tightly her eyes were closed.

Vince kneeled down beside the firemen, slipping his notepad back into his shirt pocket. "The customer says the explosion caused a shelving unit to fall on top of her, pinning her beneath it. He said she wasn't knocked out, but it took him a couple of minutes to remove the debris and get her out… said she was pretty shaken up."

Johnny and Roy exchanged a knowing look. Both men knew she was going to need morphine for her burns and were grateful that she didn't seem to have a head injury.

As the sedative began to take effect, Johnny felt around her head and neck, confirming the customer's statement. Her eyes shot open, but she was unable to pull away from his probing hands. He knew she was going to need morphine for her burns, but he needed to verify that she had no head injury.

"51, start an IV with D5W, wrap the burns in sterile sheets wet with saline. Any evidence of head trauma?"

"Negative, Rampart," Johnny replied, seeing their patient beginning to relax further.

"Administer 5 mg of morphine, IV push, and transport as soon as possible."

"Wrapping burns in sterile sheets, IV D5W and 5 mg Morphine IV push. Ambulance is on scene. Victim number 1 will be transported first while we wait on a second ambulance to transport victims 2 and 3. They have mild smoke inhalation and are receiving oxygen with vitals to follow." Bri was their obvious priority; he would thoroughly assess the other two after Bri was on her way to Rampart.

"10-4, 51. We'll be ready to receive."

Hank felt Bri's body going limp and gently lowered her to the ground. Now that the paramedics had the situation under control, he needed to check on the progress of his engine crew.

Mike, having already shut down the pumps, stepped over to join his captain's long strides across the back lot. "Fire's out… How're the victims?"

"Amy and the customer are gonna be okay. Not sure about Bri… She's… flipping out on them," he replied, jerking his head towards the paramedics. By the time Hank and Mike reached the blackened back door of the restaurant, Marco was exiting.

"Starting overhaul, Cap," the senior lineman announced.

"Any idea what might've caused it?" Hank asked, stepping over the threshold, avoiding the debris in the mess. He heard the sounds of Chet using his pike pole to check for hotspots and made his way in that direction.

"Something definitely blew," Marco commented, picking up his own pike pole. "Check out the hole in the roof," he said, aiming his pike pole in the direction of the blue sky peering through the opening in the far corner of the kitchen. "Thankfully, somebody shut the gas off pretty quick or it could've been worse."

Vince walked in behind them, looking up at the charred remnants of the ceiling. "Damn," he mused, exhaling a low whistle. "She's gonna be closed for a few weeks, for sure."

"Yea," Hank agreed, making a few mental notes; something wasn't right. He had seen many explosions during his tenure with the fire service, but this one looked odd. "Get anything from the witnesses?"

"Fella says he was the only customer. He ordered a bacon cheeseburger and a few minutes later, he heard an explosion and saw a fireball behind the counter. He ran to the kitchen to help the two ladies who were cooking. He got Amy out first and told her to call it in. He shut off the gas, but it took him a few minutes to find Bri… Seems she was underneath that shelving unit that…was over there," he said, noting the pile of cooking supplies strewn on the floor.

"Well, grease fires don't normally cause a fireball," Hank muttered, using his boots to kick at the kitchen debris.

"Not alone, but looks like it might've had a little help," Mike added, picking up a bent piece of metal shaped like the rim of a snare drum.

"What's that?" Vince asked, seeing Mike turning the object, or what was left of it, in his gloved hands.

"It's called a tamis – an Industrial flour-sifter," the engineer replied.

"Amy said they were making pastries… What's that got to do with-"

Hank interrupted the officer's question with a quick explanation. "Flour dust particles are highly flammable."

"Explosive," Mike added, peering up at the ventilation system over the cooking area. He pressed his lips into a thin line. Everything seemed to be in order, very little damage had occurred which was not what he had expected to find.

Once again, the keen eyes of the fire captain took in the damaged roof combined with the carnage of the kitchen. He felt a prickling on the back of his neck. Something just wasn't adding up.

"Never knew flour could blow a hole through the roof," the officer mused, his voice laced with doubt. Vince lifted his eyebrows. "You sure it wasn't deliberate? I mean, this is a lot o' damage and… it wasn't that long ago that Gretchen was found overdosed and nearly dead back there," the officer said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the back lot. "Maybe it was sabotage… Not Gretchen, but maybe the folks who tried to kill her, ya know?" Vince remembered the case well. He had been stunned to learn that Gretchen's near-death experience had been an attempted murder case.

Hank seemed to give the idea a little thought. "I doubt it. That bunch of religious zealots has been disbanded and their leader is dead."

Vince took a step closer to Hank and Mike. "Yea, but I was thinkin' 'bout Bri and her situation." He didn't need to say anything more. Hank and Mike both understood. Was it possible that Bri's escape from prostitution, and her subsequent testimony that sent her tormentor to prison was somehow linked to this explosion?

Mike cleared his throat, deciding to speak up. "Ahem, well, I've heard that when these girls leave their pimps that they're often tracked down and killed. I know that Gomez is in jail and Hunley's headed to prison, but I'm sure they've got friends…" He left the rest unspoken, his mind going back to Lexi's odd behavior of late. "Still… usually the simplest explanation is the right one," he muttered, turning the damaged kitchen utensil around in his hands.

Hank rubbed his chin. "Maybe I should give Sanford Bennett a call, just to cover all the bases," he commented, noting the subtle nods of agreement from the other men.

E!

Inside the first ambulance, Roy was feeling a sense of relief. His patient was becoming much more calm and coherent, and her vital signs were normalizing as well.

"Wha… what hap'ned?"

"Easy, Bri… Just try to relax for me, okay? You were in a fire at the diner, but you're gonna be okay."

Dark eyes focused on the red-haired man leaning over her. "Roy?"

"Hey… You recognize me," he said with a smile while he laid his hand gently on her abdomen to count her respiration rate. He saw her eyes begin to dart around. "You're inside an ambulance and we're on our way to Rampart. How're you feeling?"

Bri could tell that her left cheek was slightly swollen, and she briefly wondered who had punched her. She tried to raise her hand to touch her face, but Roy stopped her.

"No, don't move your arms, okay? You've got some burns, so they're wrapped up. Are you in pain?"

Roy's comment seemed to connect her brain with her injuries, and suddenly she couldn't stop the airy gasp. "Ugh… yea… some… Is everyone else okay?"

Roy's blue eyes were filled with compassion. She was truly a remarkable woman; she hadn't even asked about her own injuries but was worried about the others in the restaurant. "You got the worst of it. Amy and the customer had a little smoke inhalation; Johnny's riding in with them, but I suspect they'll be released in no time." He reached up to check the flow on the IV, noting the familiar left turn of the ambulance as the Mayfield driver pulled into the hospital parking lot.

The second ambulance was only a few minutes behind. Johnny kept a close eye on his two patients, sitting on the bench across from him but neither seemed to be in distress.

"You probably saved Bri's life," he said to the young man, wanting to offer his gratitude. "Most people run away from fires, not into them."

Behind his soot-covered face, the young man blushed. "My brother was a fireman."

Johnny noticed the shadow that crossed the young man's face, saw him look away as he ran his palm across his forehead. He didn't have to ask, Johnny knew the look; the use of the past tense did not escape the ears of the perceptive paramedic. "I'm sure you miss him."

The man merely nodded his head. "He died doin' what he… ahua… what he loved."

Johnny used his fingers to remove the rivulets of sweat that were beginning to trickle their way down his face. "How long?"

"A few months."

Johnny nodded, fearing he knew the name of the young man's brother. Even with his face covered in soot, there was a family resemblance that left little question as to his identity.

"Your… captain," the man began, clearing his throat. "Ahem… Stanley?"

Johnny nodded his affirmation, his heart thudding in his chest. His fears were being realized.

"Good man… all… all of you are," the young man said, his voice softening with emotions. "My brother loved his job… No one is to blame for what happened… to him… ahua-hua," he commented around his coughs.

Johnny looked out the window, grateful to see the familiar hospital coming into view. "Kyle was a good guy and a good fireman. We, ah… we nearly lost Cap after the accident… blamed himself."

The younger Carrigan brother simply nodded. "I know… Is he… okay… now?"

"He's better," Johnny said, grabbing onto his seat as the ambulance bounced into the parking lot. "He'll never be completely okay, though. Losing a man under your command is… is something no captain ever gets over."

"Guess it's what… makes us… human, huh?"

"Yea."

As the ambulance backed into the bay and the doors opened, the young man asked Johnny one final question. "Do you think he'd… be willing… to talk to me?"

Johnny helped Amy step out of the ambulance and into the waiting wheelchair. As the orderly whisked her away, he turned to the young man. He saw no hint of malice in the other man's red-rimmed eyes. He wasn't sure how to respond.

"Sir… I don't want to… bring up… anything bad… but… I jus'… want him to know… that… ahua… that we don't… hold any… ahua…hard feelin's, ya know?"

Johnny urged the man to sit in the proffered wheelchair while he removed the oxygen tank from the back of the ambulance. He sensed that the younger man needed to say the words even more than their captain needed to hear them. He stepped beside the wheelchair, dragging the tank behind him. "Cap got a card from your family; it basically said what you jus' told me."

"I know… but that was from… ahua… my folks… I'd like to… tell him, myself."

Johnny walked beside the wheelchair down the corridor and into treatment room one. He switched out the oxygen from the squad's portable tank to the hospital's supply. He looked over at the young man now lying on the exam table, his eyes closed while he breathed in the refreshing oxygen.

"I think they'll let you out o' here soon. A-shift will be on duty until 8 o'clock in the morning," the paramedic offered, patting the younger man on the shoulder. "Deep breaths, okay, pal? Doc will be in shortly," he added, just as Sally entered the room. He gave her a tired smile, then looked back down at the patient whose green eyes were offering a silent 'thank you' to the paramedic. "You got lucky," he chuckled. "Not all the nurses around here are as sweet and pretty as Sally. She'll take good care of you."

"Ahem… thank you… I'll see ya… before you clock out," Carrigan offered, once again swiping at his face. He was feeling a bit anxious about meeting with his brother's incident commander from that fateful night, but he needed to speak to him. He had heard the rumors that the fire captain had nearly left the department following Kyle's death. Seeing him in action today, especially how he had handled the young waitress, let him know that the department still needed him; he was a natural born leader. And he needed to know it. Who better to reassure him than the brother of the man who had died under his command?

E!

As the shadows grew longer across the front lawn of the Lopez residence, Maria said another silent prayer for her daughter. She had been gone several hours for what Maria had assumed would be a short visit. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard a vehicle pull into her driveway, but when she looked out of her window, her heart sank.

She walked to the front door, painting on a smile as she opened it. "Hello, Beverly. So nice to see you," Ms. Lopez greeted, kissing her future daughter-in-law lightly on her cheek.

"Hello, Mama Lopez," she said with a big smile, enjoying the new term of endearment she was practicing. "I brought something for Lexi, a gift for being my bridesmaid," she said proudly, lifting the tiny white box with a yellow bow for Maria to see.

"Oh, how kind of you. I'm sure she'll love it, but she's…" Maria hesitated, hoping her worry lines weren't showing. "She's gone to have a talk with Briat your place… offering an apology, I hope." Maria closed the front door as she ushered Beverly into her home. "She's been gone for quite some time, so I hope that means the talk is going well." When she turned around, the look on Beverly's face stopped her dead in her tracks. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Bri's working a double shift today. I dropped her off at 7:00 am and I'm not supposed to pick her up until 11:00 tonight."

Maria's trembling hands covered her mouth. "Oh no… where could she be, Beverly?"

Beverly set the small box down on the coffee table, then turned to face the older woman. She placed her hands on Maria's shoulders, grounding her. "I don't know, but we mustn't panic. Do you have any idea where she might have gone other than my apartment? I can go looking for her."

Maria shook her head, her eyes welling up with tears.

"Okay, did she take anything with her?"

Before Maria could respond, another vehicle pulled into the driveway. Marie recognized the sound of the car and felt a deep sense of relief. "That's her… she's back… but… What do I say, Beverly?"

"Nothing… Don't pry and don't accuse. I don't know what's going on, but let's give her a chance to tell us the truth first. We can't confront her, she's still too fragile."

Maria wiped her eyes with her apron, making herself presentable just as Lexi walked in.

"Hi Beverly, sorry I'm late Mama. Time just kind of… got away from me," she said, hoping her mother wouldn't pressure her for information.

"Oh, that's okay… I take it the visit went well, then?" Maria asked, hoping she hadn't asked too much.

Lexi faked a yawn, then headed for the stairs before answering. She had become a skillful liar during the last five years, but she wasn't sure she could be untruthful with her own mother. "Pretty well, I think," she replied. At least that much wasn't a lie.

"That's good. Um, Lex, Beverly has something for you."

Lexi stopped at the bottom of the stairs. When she turned around, her future sister-in-law was standing there, holding a prettily wrapped box in her hand. "It's a bridesmaid gift. I want you to wear them at the wedding."

Lexi accepted the box and carefully began peeling away the paper. When she opened it, she nearly gasped at the ornate earrings nestled inside. Her dark eyes looked up at Beverly. "They're beautiful. Thank you," she beamed, hugging the older woman. "I love them… They're… perfect," she commented, all the while wondering how much money she could get for the jewelry after the wedding. After all, she would have no use for them after the big day.

"I'm glad you like them." Beverly turned around, seeing Ms. Lopez twisting the hem of her apron in her hands. "Well, I guess I better be going. You two take care and give Antonio a hug for me."

"He's out back, playing on the swing set if you'd like to speak to him," Maria suggested, her warm smile returning. "It's getting dark outside; he needs to come in." Lexi's reaction to the gift had been just what she'd hoped. Maybe she was worrying for nothing… but if Bri was working, then why did Lexi say the visit went well? The thought still niggled at her brain.

"I'll go get him," Beverly said, heading for the back door. "Good night, Lexi," she tossed over her shoulder, hearing the younger woman's soft footfalls going up the creaky staircase.

"See ya later," was the weak reply.

Beverly wrapped an arm around Maria as they turned to head for the back door. "I'll talk to Bri when I pick her up tonight. Who knows, maybe Lexi stopped by the Pourhouse to see her."

E!

A couple of hours later, Beverly was walking into the apartment she now shared with Marco when the telephone began to ring. She dropped her keys on the kitchen table, a happy smile spreading across her face as she glanced at the kitchen clock.

"Right on time," she mumbled to herself, picking up the receiver. "Lopez residence," she said in a soft voice.

"Beverly, I need to tell you something," Marco said, hurrying to get to the point before his words alarmed his fiancée. "There was an explosion at the Pourhouse this afternoon. Bri's at the hospital, but she'll be okay."

Beverly's hand covered her mouth, stifling a gasp. Marco heard her and rushed through the rest of the story.

"There was an accident in the kitchen, but a customer knew exactly what to do and he got Bri and Amy out. Amy had a little smoke inhalation, but Johnny said she'd be released soon. Bri's going to be there for a day or two. She's got some burns on her arms and neck, and she breathed in a lot of smoke, too."

"Oh, my goodness," Beverly said, finally finding her voice. "I'll… um, I better pack a bag and go stay with her," she said, running a nervous hand through her hair. "Rampart?" she asked, knowing that it was the closest hospital to both the Pourhouse and Station 51.

"Yes, just go through the emergency department. Dixie and Dr. Early were taking care of her when Roy left." He rubbed his eyes with his smoky hands. He had made the phone call before taking a shower. "I knew you'd want to know."

"Yes, of course. Thank you, sweetheart. I love you… Guess I probably won't be here when you get home in the morning," she said softly.

"It's okay, baby. Might make it easier on me, anyway," he said with a snicker, trying to lighten the mood. Their self-imposed period of celibacy was difficult, but their wedding night was going to be much more special because of it.

E!

Amy splashed her face with cold water, trying to wash away as much of the smoky scent as she could. When she looked up into the mirror, she was startled by the face she saw behind her. Spinning around quickly, she nearly lost her balance.

"Beverly?"

"Hey, Amy," the counselor said, placing a reassuring hand on the older woman's shoulder. "The charge nurse told me she saw you step in here. I just wanted to let you know that I'm here to spend the night with Bri… Why don't you go home? You must be exhausted."

Amy snatched a few paper towels from the dispenser in the hospital's restroom and patted her face dry. "Yea… I am. How'd you-"

"Marco called me."

"Oh, yea," Amy replied, dropping the damp paper into the trash can near the door. "Sorry… Guess my mind is still a little disengaged."

"It's okay; I get it," Beverly responded, walking behind Amy as they made their way back to Bri's room.

"She's been asleep ever since I got here," Amy said, quietly pushing the door of Bri's room open.

"Since she's asleep, why don't I drive you home?"

"Thanks, Beverly, but I'll just call a cab to take me back to the diner. My car's still there."

"Do you feel like driving?" Beverly asked, adjusting the blankets on Bri's sleeping form.

"Yea… I'll be fine… besides," she said, hesitating at the door. "I want to see how much damage was done."

"I'm so sorry, Amy. You've worked so hard to make the diner successful."

Amy gave Beverly a half smile. "Yea, but it's just stuff, you know? I have insurance. It can be replaced… People can't be replaced. I'm glad no one was hurt any worse than…," she gulped, feeling her eyes stinging. "Any worse than this," she said, nodding at Bri.

"Me, too."

Amy opened the door. "Will you tell her I was here and that I hope she feels better soon?"

"Of course… This isn't your fault, Amy."

"I know… but I still feel guilty," she said, stepping into the doorway. "Call me when she wakes up, okay?"

Beverly nodded her agreement, then took a seat in the chair beside the bed, settling in for what was likely to be a long night.

E!

Back at 51's, the paramedics had just returned from a medical call. Roy quickly removed his bunkers, slipping his feet beneath the covers and turning onto his side. Within a couple of minutes, his soft snores joined the cacophony of others in the dorm room. But his partner did not find sleep so easily, even when he was exhausted.

Johnny lay awake, staring at the familiar ceiling, the droning of the ticking clock in the dorm room pounding out a cadence he couldn't block out. His mind had been wandering during each break he had gotten during this shift. In exactly one week, he would be reunited with his beloved, and he was overjoyed. Yet, there was a part of him that was nervous. Lily had seemed somewhat distant during their recent telephone calls. Was she falling in love with Selma? Surely not, he mused. How could anyone fall in love with a place that held so much negativity from her past. Then he considered his own homesickness for the reservation where he had spent his childhood. No matter how poverty-stricken or lacking in resources his childhood may have been, there was a certain amount of comfort associated with it. He had left a part of his heart on that reservation, and it would always be special to him. After his father had bought the ranch, the work had been hard, but it had produced good memories. Was Lily replacing her negative memories with more pleasant ones? Was he going to become just another warm memory to her? Was it possible that he would be replaced by a proverbial southern gentleman who might woo her away from him?

Johnny draped his arm over his face. ' _You're losin' it, man,'_ he thought to himself as he slowly blew out his breath, but that tiny niggling voice remained in the back of his mind. He had told her that he loved her, but perhaps it was time to make his intensions known – even if he had only just realized them himself.

E!

Detective Crockett collected his Styrofoam cup of strong black coffee from the plastic cupholder attached to the interior window ledge of his sedan. Setting it on top of his car, he pulled on his navy-blue sports coat, retrieved his cup, and headed for the front door of the metro jail. He pushed through the glass door, greeting the secretary.

"Good Monday morning," he said, his pearly teeth grinning at the woman behind the counter.

"You're a little too chipper, aren't you?" she asked, reaching for the sign-in ledger she knew he would want. "It's Monday, Ron; didn't anybody tell you?"

He chuckled, leaning against the counter and accepting the book from her. "I know, but at least we can walk out that door later today," he said, using a sweeping gesture with his arm, "but these fine upstanding citizens of our illustrious facility can't."

"Well, it ain't 'cause they sang too loud in the church choir," she said, snickering to herself.

"Yea… We do have some doozies residing with us, don't we?" the detective asked, rhetorically. "So," he began, flipping the pages to the most recent one. "Let's see if any of my favorite criminals had any interesting visitors yesterday…"

He was working on a couple of homicide cases that were rapidly growing cold. He was hoping that the two suspects currently serving time on drug charges, but who were known enemies of the deceased, might have had visitors that had not yet been questioned. With any luck, his scan of the visitor log might provide a new lead.

As his dark fingers guided his eyes down the page, one name stood out. He lifted his eyebrows, cursing under his breath. "What the hell?"

The secretary looked up from her stack of paperwork. "Find something?"

"Yea… Maybe… Were you the one working visitation yesterday?"

"Unfortunately," she groused, rolling her eyes. "Why?"

He flipped the book around, pointing to the feminine signature on line seven. "Do you remember her?"

The dark-haired woman slipped on her reading glasses and looked at the signature in question. "No, not really. Why?"

"Because Alexandria LeRoux died in New Orleans over twenty years ago… and again here in Los Angeles earlier this year."

"Huh?"

Without regard for the gaping mouth of the thoroughly confused jail secretary, he slipped a tiny steno pad from his shirt pocket and jotted down a few notes. He wrote the time she arrived, the time she left, and the name of the inmate she had visited. "Damn," he mumbled, scribbling down the name of the visited party – Ricardo Gomez. 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The smell of coffee percolating greeted the two weary paramedics as they dragged themselves out of the squad. What had started out as a slow night had ended with nonstop medical runs, while the engine crew had somehow managed to avoid a single call out.

Roy rubbed his eyes with the heel of one hand while pushing his way through the kitchen door with the other, the scent of hot liquid caffeine leading the way. Behind him, Johnny covered his open mouth, his eyes watering from the yawn that stretched his face unflatteringly. He felt the stubble growing along his lower jawline, completely uncaring. There was no one at home to welcome him with a kiss – at least, not yet. If things went the way he was hoping, that might not be the case much longer.

"Man, you guys look beat."

"Shut up, Chet," Johnny mumbled, following his partner to the coffee pot.

"Five runs since midnight," Roy grumbled.

"Well, too bad the squad wasn't as cordial to you fellas as Big Red was to us," the junior lineman continued, unabated by the foul mood of his paramedic shiftmates. "She stayed quiet and jus' let us sleep all through the night."

"Yea, well you know what you can do with Big Red…" Johnny turned around, his mouth agape.

Sitting around the table were the linemen and engineer, two open pink boxes in front of them. "Where'd ya get those?" the dark-haired medic asked, using his coffee cup to point in the direction of the pastries.

Marco, the only crew member without a mouthful of sugar-coated bliss, spoke up. "Remember the customer from the Pourhouse yesterday? He brought 'em," he responded, licking his fingers.

Johnny arched an eyebrow, still staring at the box while his suddenly alert partner grabbed a chocolate éclair. "Oh… oh, yea…" Johnny glanced around, noting that their supervisor was absent. "He talkin' to Cap?"

"How'd you know?" Chet questioned.

Johnny reached over him, not caring how his unbathed armpit might smell to his nemesis. "He mentioned it yesterday. You know who he is, right?" he asked, purposely dislodging powdered sugar onto the curly hair of his comrade as he shoved half the donut into his mouth.

"Marco jus' told ya, Gage. He's the guy from the Pourhouse, yesterday. Geesh, don'tcha listen?"

"No, man, I mean his brother. Do you know who his brother is?" Without missing a beat, he continued talking around a mouthful of raspberry filled donut while pointing towards the captains' office. "That fella is Kyle Carrigan's little brother."

"What?" Mike asked, flattening his hands on the table as he pushed away from it. They had only recently gotten their captain back to a fairly normal state-of-mind. He wasn't sure the older man could handle an emotional setback from an outraged member of the Carrigan family.

"No, no, Mike," Johnny quickly responded, stopping the engineer in his tracks. "It's a good thing… really. I talked to him. He doesn't blame Cap for anything and he wants to tell him so."

"You sure about that?" the engineer asked just as the kitchen door opened again, this time revealing the younger Carrigan with Captain Stanley; the eyes of both men were red-rimmed.

"Sure about what?" Hank asked, ushering their guest to the coffee pot.

"Hey, Carrigan," Johnny spoke up, licking the sugar from his fingers before extending his hand in a friendly gesture, effectively cutting off his superior's question that none of the men wanted to answer. "You're lookin' much better this mornin'."

"And thanks for the donuts," Roy added, reaching for a second delectable treat.

"Oh, just my way of saying thank you for coming to the rescue yesterday." Carrigan lowered his gaze, accepting the proffered coffee cup from the fire captain, chuckling at the sticky residue Johnny had left on his right hand. "I know you fellas were just doing your job, but I still wanted to show my appreciation."

Hank swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing he needed to explain the identity of their visitor, but realizing that John already knew. "Men, this is Keith Carrigan, Kyle's younger brother."

A cacophony of accolades for the deceased fireman rose from the assembled group before a moment of awkward silence fell across the room. Keith cleared his throat, pushing past the hoarseness, partly the result of smoke inhalation from his close call the day before and partly due to his emotional status at the moment.

"Ahem, I just wanted to tell Captain Stanley… and all of you… that Kyle knew the risks of the job. I miss him every day… I always will… but it was just an accident… nothing more. And I hope you fellas will honor his memory by going out and saving more lives… that you'll continue to do what you love… that you… will continue to… inspire young kids to… to grow up to… be just like you… and my brother… and… and that you won't let the dragon win," he somehow managed to say, running his hand down his dampened face.

Each man took a turn shaking the hand of the younger Carrigan. It was cathartic for all of them, but especially for the highest ranking man. Hank felt the final weight being lifted from his shoulders. He would always wonder if there was something he could have done to have changed the outcome of that fateful night, but he no longer felt like the fire itself was pulling him into the pit of hell. He had finally accepted that his place was right here with his men; nothing else would satisfy him, no other job would make him feel as fulfilled. Of that, he was certain.

Captain Stanley closed the kitchen side door after their guest had left, allowing himself a moment to gaze upon his crew. They had each been through a truly difficult year, and there would be lumps and bumps ahead – there always were – but he was proud of them. Even the juvenile bantering of his two youngest men couldn't stop the swelling in his heart. He thought of Becca and how she had supported him, not only during the worst year of his life, but every day since the day they met. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to go home, take a long hot shower, and spend some quality time alone with his soulmate.

"Marco," Roy spoke up, carrying the coffee pot around the table, adding a warming addition to each man's cup. "We stopped by to check on Bri earlier. She was sleeping, but Beverly said that she was doing okay… She doesn't remember the incident."

"Did Bev say if she was staying with Bri all day?"

Roy could hear the concern in his friend's voice. "She said Amy was going to come back later on this morning." The senior medic took his seat, remembering his brief conversation with Beverly in the hallway outside Bri's room. "She looked tired, Marco. I don't think she got much sleep."

"Probably not… I hate hospitals," the lineman replied. "Guess I'll go by Mama's house when my relief gets here… Let them know what happened."

E!

Maria used a fork to whip the four eggs into a frothy mixture. She dropped a pat of butter into the frying pan just as a familiar knock sounded at the front door.

"Grandma! Meeko's here," cheered an enthusiastic little boy.

Without missing a beat, Maria picked up two more eggs from the carton. "Well, why don't you invite him in for breakfast, Antonio," she said with a chuckle. Having her eldest child joining them for breakfast would be a welcome treat.

"Good morning, Mama," Marco greeted, kissing his mother lightly on the cheek.

"What a nice surprise," Maria said, pouring the scrambled egg mixture into the hot pan. She tossed in the diced peppers, tomatoes, and shredded cheese, then lowered the temperature. "Did you bring Beverly with you? I have plenty of food," she said, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her plump waist.

Marco poured himself a cup of orange juice, reaching for his nephew's favorite plastic cup from the cupboard. It was a ritual he had performed many times over the last couple of years. He missed his family home, but he looked forward to the new home he was soon going to make with Beverly.

"Uh, no… She spent the night at the hospital."

Maria continued stirring the eggs, heating up a few flour tortillas beside them. "Oh? Another rescue? Is the girl going to be okay?" Her mind immediately going back to the day she had been reunited with Lexi. She silently prayed that Beverly's latest rescue would survive – not all of them did.

"Yes, but she's… Mama, it isn't what you think," he said, taking over the preparations for her. He knew she was going to be upset by what he was about to say.

"How so?"

"There was an explosion at the Pourhouse, yesterday afternoon. Bri was injured."

"Oh no," Maria gasped, her hand covering her mouth. "How… How badly?"

"She has some burns, but Roy and John say that they'll heal." He scraped the scrambled eggs onto a plate, setting it on the table. "She was trapped underneath a wooden shelving unit; it pinned her in for a few minutes. She wasn't unconscious, but it took one of the customer's a few minutes to get her out."

"Oh, that poor girl. Lexi is just going to have to accept the fact that Bri is coming back here to stay while she recovers. She doesn't need to be alone." When she received no response, she looked up to see Marco with a faraway look in his eyes.

"Did Aunt Bri get hurt bad?" Antonio asked, his innocent face adorned with an orange juice mustache which he promptly wiped away with his shirt sleeve as he waited for his grandmother to prepare a breakfast burrito for his plate.

"Yes, Ant, but she's going to be alright. You and I will make sure of that, won't we?" Maria asked, cutting a quick glance at Marco.

"Can I draw her a 'feel gooder' picture?" the child inquired, using both hands to keep the contents of his burrito from spilling out.

"I think she would really like that," Maria replied, noticing how quiet Marco had grown.

"Will my Momma get mad if I give Aunt Bri a picture?" the child asked, his voice lower and his head downcast.

"No," his grandmother replied sharply. "She most certainly will not be mad. I believe they are getting along better now," Maria added, hopefully.

"Did they say their sorries?"

Maria patted her grandson's head. "Yes, I believe they did say their apologies yesterday."

But even Antonio's childhood vocabulary, antics that normally left his uncle doubled over in laughter, wasn't enough to bring a smile to Marco's face.

"Was anybody else hurt?" Maria waited for an answer, but Marco seemed not to have heard her question. "Ahem."

Marco looked over at his mother. He recognized the stern throat-clearing noise as her way of getting his attention. "Did you say something?"

"I asked if anyone else was hurt?"

He shook his head, stirring his food around on his plate. "No, it happened just before four o'clock, so it was in between lunch and dinner. Only one customer was inside… Could've been much worse…"

Maria waited patiently for him to continue talking. She could read him like a book. He softened his facial features, knowing she was wondering what he was thinking. "She, um… She can't remember anything about the incident, Mama." He set his fork down on the edge of his plate. "In fact, she doesn't remember anything about yesterday, at all."

Maria felt her heart sink. If Bri had no memory of the previous day, then she probably wouldn't be able to recall Lexi's conversation with her, either… If such a conversation had actually happened in the first place.

Standing quietly just outside the kitchen doorway, Lexi sucked in her bottom lip. While she wasn't happy about Bri's accident, the situation was exactly what she needed. She tiptoed across the living room to the base of the staircase, waiting for the right moment to make her presence known. Spotting Antonio's Tinker Toy set in the toy box in the corner of the room, she quietly removed one of the wooden dowels and tossed it across the living room floor.

"OUCH!"

The sound of chairs scraping along the hardwood floor let her know that her plan had worked.

"Momma, are you okay?" Antonio questioned as his pudgy face peeked out from behind the kitchen door way, Maria following behind.

"Yes, but you shouldn't leave your toys strewn across the living room floor. I stepped on one of them and nearly fell," she responded, knitting her eyebrows in a look of frustration as she took a few steps towards the kitchen, limping.

Maria bit her tongue, not wanting to scold her daughter in front of Antonio, but she made sure her eyes relayed her message. "I'm sure it was just an accident, wasn't it, Ant?" Maria asked, nudging the child through the doorway and into the living room. "Now, pick up that piece," she said, pointing at the offending wooden stick, "and look around for others while the grown-ups finish our breakfast."

Maria was glad Marco was there to help her explain to Lexi what had happened at the Pourhouse the previous day. She still doubted Lexi's story about yesterday's visit with Bri going well, but now wasn't the time to discuss the issue. Bri was injured and would be needing help over the next few days.

"Yes… ma'am," the admonished child mumbled, lowering his head, knowing better than to deny his guilt. If the toy had been left out to be stepped on, then it must have been his fault, but how could he have missed it. He swiped his fingers beneath his nose. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he was always being a bad boy around his Momma.

Lexi forced herself to look away from her son's pitiful face. She hated hurting his feelings, but soon she would make him the happiest little boy in the world. Just a few short weeks and, he would have what he wanted most in the world – a Momma and a Daddy – and she would have what she wanted most, too. She would finally have the security of knowing that her precious little boy was safe from the cruelest evil she had ever known.

E!

It was nearly lunchtime when Marco made it back to his apartment. He saw Beverly's car in the parking lot and assumed she would be asleep. He deftly slipped his key into the lock and turned it, only to feel the knob being yanked from his hand.

"You're late," Beverly fumed, her exhausted face not hiding her true feelings.

"Uh-oh, and you're angry," he replied, dropping his keys into the bowl in the foyer. "I was letting you sleep, Baby. Roy said you were tired."

"If I want Roy delivering messages for me, I'll ask him myself," she raged.

Marco stood up a little straighter. Beverly's foul mood involved more than just fatigue. "What's this all about, Beverly?"

"It's about YOU… you being…," she hesitated, her arms flailing around, "not here!"

Marco approached her slowly, wrapping her into a calming embrace. "When you… needed me?" He felt her release a shuttering breath. "Sshhh… I'm sorry, Baby… I didn't think about you needing to talk to me after all this with Bri."

"But… I did… and… "

"I went by Mama's house to tell them about the explosion," Marco mentally chastised himself with his confession. "I should've tried to call you."

"It's just so unfair," she sniffled, pulling away from him and plopping down on the sofa. "Why her? Why did Bri have to be injured again?"

He knew she wasn't expecting an answer; she simply needed his listening ear and his support. He took a seat beside her, grasping her hand and allowing her to open her heart to him.

"I mean, think about everything she's been through with Hunley, and now… this!"

Marco ran his thumb across the back of her hand. "She's strong… just like you, Bev. I mean, look at all you went through, and yet, you've not only survived – you've thrived. And I'm so proud of you. You've shared your strength with Bri… and Lexi… and all the others you've rescued. Bri's going to be okay."

"I wish I shared your faith, Marco… I'm just not so sure."

"Well… I have some good news… Lexi said that she went by the Pourhouse yesterday afternoon and spoke to Bri. Lexi apologized and Bri accepted her apology, and… I mean, Mama told me that you two really didn't believe her story about visiting with Bri, but Lexi said they talked for a few minutes behind the restaurant. Lexi even knew that there was only one customer and said that Amy was taking care of him so that gave her and Bri time to talk. Don't you see, Beverly? Lexi couldn't have known that unless she had gone by there. She was being truthful," Marco said, his face lighting up.

"Not sure that matter's anymore," she said, wiping her eyes with her fingers, further smudging yesterday's mascara. "Bri doesn't remember anything that happened yesterday." She turned sideways so that she could look into his loving face. "But I'm afraid this new trauma might have resurrected other memories."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure… she kept mumbling something about a crib… Like she was terrified of it, or something."

Marco thumbed through the pages of his memory. "But, her baby was stillborn early in the pregnancy. I don't think there would've been any crib."

Beverly pressed her lips into a thin line of frustration. "I know… I think I need to talk to Lexi."

Marco kissed her lightly on her forehead. "First, you need some rest."

E!

At Rampart Hospital, a soft knock alerted Bri that she had a visitor. She peeled her eyes open and realized that Amy had not yet returned from lunch. She saw the tray of Jell-o and cold broth sitting on the table near her; she had not felt like eating earlier.

Assuming the knock was from a candy striper sent to retrieve the tray, she called out to the guest as she snuggled back down in her bed, closing her eyes. "Come in."

"Uh, Miss Mendosa?"

The distinctly masculine voice pulled her up from her cozy spot in bed. "Um, y-yes?"

"Hi," the gentleman said sheepishly, softly walking closer to her bed. "You probably don't remember me, but-"

"Sam?" she asked, shocked at the sight of the man who had once carried her into this same hospital on one of the worst days of her young life. "Sam Bennett, what brings you here?"

Her recognition sent a warmth across his chest that he hadn't anticipated. "You remember me," he blushed, taking a seat beside her bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Not so good," she said, grimacing as she tried to adjust the bed. "I'm being told that I was in an explosion at the restaurant… Are you investigating it?" She knew she couldn't be lucky enough to have a handsome young man interested in her well-being. The only reason he would be here was if he was investigating the incident.

Samford's eyes lit up for a moment. "I was hoping you could tell me more about what happened. I have a theory, but so far, no evidence to support it."

Bri tried to hide her disappointment. He was all business, but what else did she expect. He had been really nice to her at Stoker's personnel hearing when Hunley had attacked her, yet, she knew the truth – what she had done to expose Leonard Hunley had merely proven to the world that she was nothing more than a "two-bit whore," using Hunley's own words.

She pulled the blankets up near her chin, wishing she could bury herself beneath them. She could feel him staring at her, waiting for an answer. "Um… I can't… I don't remember… anything about yesterday."

"Nothing?"

She shook her head. "The last thing I remember was hanging up my uniform on the back of my bedroom door before I went to bed the night before. I don't even remember going to work."

Sam clicked his pen off, stashing it back into his shirt pocket. He returned the notebook to his briefcase. "I'm sorry, Bri. I didn't realize that you had been injured so badly. Hank… Hank Stanley said that his paramedics didn't think you had a head injury, so he thought you might be able to answer a few questions for me."

Bri stared out the hospital window. "No head injury… just… no memory at all."

"I see… Well, we're still sifting through the debris. Maybe I'll have some answers for you soon… something to fill in the blanks."

When Bri didn't respond and didn't turn to look at him, he decided to change the subject. "Is this what they're feeding you? It doesn't look too appealing," he said, trying to lighten her mood.

"It isn't… but I don't feel much like eating," she responded.

"Will they let you have something tastier?"

Bri shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, do you like milkshakes?"

The dark-haired woman cut her eyes in Sam's direction. "Why?"

"I know a chocolate milkshake makes me feel better when I'm not feeling well. I thought you might like one. I'd be happy to bring one to you, if you'd like," the fire investigator offered.

"I, um, I don't have my purse… It got burned up in the fire," she explained, not wanting to hurt his feelings by declining his offer.

"Why do you need your purse?" he asked, knowing what she meant.

"Milkshakes cost money."

"I don't let ladies pay for their food when I ask them out," he said, flashing her a smile. "I mean, I know you can't go out yet, but I can bring you a milkshake back and we can dine in."

She stared at him in disbelief, unable to answer his question.

"Well? How 'bout it?"

"Strawberry is my favorite," she replied, trying to smile.

"I'll ask your nurse if it's okay, and if she agrees, then I'll be right back," he said turning just as her door opened.

"Well, hello, Samford," Dixie spoke in her usual smoky voice. "How are you feeling, Bri?"

Bri responded with an inarticulate groan.

"The food here isn't helping, Ms. McCall," Sam replied. "Would it be okay if I brought her a milkshake?"

Dixie's blue eyes drifted from Samford over to Bri, hesitating briefly on the food tray on the table. "That does sound better than this garbage," she snickered. "Think you can drink a milkshake?"

Bri pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, nodding. "I'd be willing to try."

"Ms. McCall?" Sam questioned.

"I think a milkshake would be just what the doctor ordered," she said with a smile.

As soon as Samford headed for the cafeteria, Dixie sat down on the edge of Bri's bed. "Now… how are you really doing?"

"Okay, I guess. I don't remember anything," she said.

"Has Amy told you anything about what happened?" she asked, realizing midway through her question that the owner of the diner was not present. "I thought she was staying with you?"

"Oh," Bri gave a wave of her hand. "She had a lot to do with the diner. I told her I'd be fine alone here during the day. Beverly is coming back to stay with me tonight."

"Well, I happen to know that Rampart has the best nurses in all of LA County, so you'll be in good hands while you're here," Dixie said, giving her a playful wink. "How's your pain level?" the head nurse asked.

"It's okay… manageable… Dr. Brackett said that if the pain pills work okay for me today, then he'll let me go home… tomorrow," she said, sucking in a quick breath as she fought back her tears.

"Then why the sad face?"

Bri released a shuttering breath. "I'm… out o' work, and now… I can't pay the rent… I'm gonna be… homeless again," she sniffled. "Oh Dixie… What am I gonna do?"

Dixie placed a calming hand on Bri's shoulder. "First of all, you are going to get well enough to get out of here. Then, you have friends who are going to help you out until you're back on your feet."

"But what about Amy? She's gonna need more help than me," Bri wept. "She lost her business, not just her job. All the people I know are friends of Amy's. They'll be helping her… I don't expect them to help me, too."

Before Dixie could respond, her name was paged over the intercom. "Ugh," she groaned, sliding off the edge of the bed. "Duty calls." She walked over to the door, pulling the door open then turning back around to offer a final word of encouragement. "You hang in there, Bri. Things just seem to have a way of working out… You'll see."

E!

An hour later, Dixie propped one hip on the edge of her stool, staring at the growing pile of charts. She reached into her pocket, withdrawing a pen. She had to get some of the charting done before another surge of activity flooded the busy emergency department.

"Um, Ms. McCall?"

Her blue eyes peered upwards through thick eyelashes, followed by a smile of recognition. "Hello, again. How'd our girl do with the milkshake?"

Samford leaned against the counter, his gaze drifting away from the nurse. "She's still trying to get it all down."

Dixie waited for him to continue, but when he didn't, she had to ask the question. "But…"

"You were in there when I left to go to the cafeteria… Did something happen to upset her?" he asked.

The perceptive nurse closed the chart she had been reviewing. "How much do you know about her?"

"I know about her life on the streets, if that's what you mean," he responded. "And I was there when she took down Leonard Hunley. She's a tough lady."

Dixie slid off the stool, stepping around the end of the counter. "How about you join me for a cup of terrible hospital coffee in the staff lounge," she joked, her charting would have to wait a little while longer.

"It can't be as bad as some of the fire house coffee I've tasted," he snickered, allowing her to lead the way.

E!

On the fourth floor of the hospital, Lexi meandered down the hallway, in no hurry to reach her destination. What would she do if Bri had regained her memory? She really hadn't thought through all of the 'what ifs' in this situation. The opportunity to explain her whereabouts yesterday afternoon had happened so suddenly, she had no chance to plan for all the possibilities. She could almost hear her mother's voice chastising her. _'Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive._ ' She shuddered at the memory, then found herself standing in front of the door to Bri's room. With a deep inhalation, she lightly knocked, holding her breath until the voice on the other side granted her entrance.

E!

The shadows were growing longer as Lexi turned onto her street. She had been gone longer than she had planned, but she had actually accomplished a lot in a very short time. Seeing both Marco's and Beverly's cars parked along the street in front of her mother's house, she tried to brace herself for the verbal assault she figured was coming.

She hurriedly rushed up the steps, forcing her face to appear light-hearted. "Hello, everyone," she announced as she entered the house.

Maria bit her lip between her teeth, pushing her rotund body up from the sofa where she had been sitting. Antonio gave a quick turn of his head as a greeting, then returned his attention to the television set. He assumed she was still angry at him for his earlier misplacement of his Tinker Toy.

"You're just in time for dinner. Marco and Beverly decided to cook for us," she said, obviously proud of her eldest son and his future bride.

The look on her mother's face was another reminder of the disappointment Lexi knew she had become. She had tried to learn to cook, but her brother was still the best cook of all the Lopez children. In the Lopez family, everyone learned to cook – men and women – but it was expected that the women would always be the best cooks. That was not the case with Lexi, nor would it ever be.

When Lexi didn't say anything, Maria suddenly became concerned. "How was Bri? Didn't your visit go well?"

Jerking her head up, Lexi forced a smile on her face. "Oh, she's doing much better. She doesn't remember anything about the explosion," Lexi began turning her back to her mother as she set her purse down in the foyer. "Actually, she doesn't remember yesterday at all. I mean, she didn't even remember me stopping by to talk to her."

"Oh, dear. Did you have to go through the apology again?"

"Yes, ma'am, but she accepted it, and everything is fine between us. Dr. Brackett is probably going to let her out tomorrow and I told her that we'd have her room ready."

"And she agreed to stay here for a few days?"

"She only agreed to stay until her arms were healed, but yes, she agreed to stay with us," Lexi said, finally able to look at her mother's face. It was so much easier to face the woman she loved when she wasn't lying.

"Aunt Bri is coming to live with us again?" Antonio asked, bolting into an upright position.

"Yes, your Aunt Bri will probably be coming home tomorrow, but she's going to need our help, okay?" Lexi said, kneeling down so that she was face-to-face with her son. She gulped past the lump that was forming in her throat. She was glad that he seemed to have developed a close bond with Bri. There was nothing more from life that she wanted than for her son to be happy and safe. His happiness would be the easy part, but it was his safety that she was planning for the most.

"I can help. I can help. Please let me help. I can draw her more pictures," he said, his innocent eyes wide.

Beverly walked out of the kitchen, untying the apron from around her waist. "Oh good, you're home," she said, addressing her future sister-in-law. "Dinner's ready."

"Go wash up," Lexi said to her son, shooing him from the room. As soon as he was gone, she turned to Beverly. "Bri seemed okay this afternoon. She said you were staying with her again, tonight."

Beverly held the kitchen door open for Maria and Lexi while Marco set the table. "Yes, I am. Is her memory coming back at all?"

"I'm afraid not," Lexi replied, taking a seat. "I had to go through my whole apology again, but she accepted it and she'll be staying with us for a few days until she feels like she can manage on her own."

"I'm so glad. How soon?" Maria asked.

"Maybe tomorrow afternoon… Oh, and guess who else I saw walking across the parking lot as I was leaving?"

The others looked at each other in confusion.

"Samford Bennett. He had stopped by to ask her questions related to the investigation."

Marco picked up the plate of pork chops and passed them around. "I guess that was a short visit for him since she can't remember anything."

"It might have been, but she said that since she didn't like what they had served her for lunch, he went to the cafeteria and bought her a milkshake. Wasn't that nice? Oh, and I invited him to the party on Friday night, too. I mean, since Bri will be there and all."

Beverly and Marco exchanged knowing looks. Beverly was about to ask Lexi for more information when Antonio returned, his hands out and palms facing upwards. "Clean enough?"

Lexi pretended to closely inspect his hands, much like her own mother had done when she was a child. "Yes, clean enough."

As soon as their dinner was eaten, Lexi began clearing the dishes. "I'll take care of these," she announced. Even though her cooking skills were lacking, she knew how to clean things up. Now, if only her life would be as easy to clean as a sink full of dishes.

"Um, I need to head to the hospital," Beverly announced. "Lexi, would you walk with me to my car?"

Maria and Marco took over in the kitchen, both knowing what Beverly was going to ask.

Lexi nervously followed Beverly out of the house. As they stood on the front porch, she was sure the older woman could hear her heart slamming around inside her chest. "Um, w-what's going on?"

"Well, I didn't want to talk in front of Antonio, but I need to ask you something about Bri and I need for you to be completely honest with me, okay?"

"Um, 'kay," Lexi replied, taking a seat on the steps.

Beverly sat beside her and began relaying the events of the previous night. "So anyway, three times during the night, she became restless and was mumbling and the only thing I could make out that she was saying was the word crib."

Lexi felt her world tilt and was grateful she was sitting down. "I-I don't understand," she stammered, amazed by how honest the lie sounded. If Bri was in pain and having nightmares about a crib, then there was only one explanation.

Beverly stared across the street into the darkness of the vacant lot. "Yea… me neither. Marco thought she might be referring to a crib for her baby, but she was only about halfway through her pregnancy when she was beaten and her apartment set on fire, so I doubt if she would've had a crib set up that early. Do you think she could've? Maybe it got burned up in the fire and that's what she's talking about?"

"I dunno," Lexi lied. She knew the type of crib to which Bri was referring and it had nothing to do with a baby, but she saw this as her way out. "Maybe so," she spouted back, her words suddenly spewing forth. "I mean, that has to be it. What else could it be, right? She was trapped in a fire just like in the apartment when her baby died. So, yea, yea, that has to be it," she agreed.

Beverly knew that her acceptance of the explanation was a little too sudden and sure. Deep in her heart, she knew that Bri's nightmare had nothing to do with a baby crib, but without more to go on, and with Lexi so quick to agree, she knew she wasn't going to get any additional information from her tonight.

"Okay, well, maybe she'll rest better tonight. Thanks for going by to see her today, and thanks for… well, for accepting her back into your life. You've come a long way, Lexi. As a matter of fact, both of you ladies have, so keep up the good work."

Lexi watched as Beverly got into her car and drove away. She felt as if someone had kicked her in the stomach. She looked up at the dark sky, and in an act of desperation, she prayed. "Dear God, if you're up there, please don't let Bri tell Beverly anything. I just need a few more weeks, and then it'll all be over, I promise. Please… Just give me a few more weeks."

E!

AN: Thank you for reading and especially to those of you who have contacted me and shared your thoughts. I am so grateful for your encouragement. I have been having some health issues, but I hope that my time off from work recuperating from surgery and the treatments that will follow might inspire me to finish this series sooner. It seems that stress has a way of inspiring my muse – strange, I know. Thanks again.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Johnny drove down the familiar street, his elbow propped on the ledge of his beloved Rover, the wind whipping through his dark mussed-up tresses. He squinted into the sun as he made the westbound turn onto the DeSotos' street. As he neared his destination, he noticed the garage door open, Joanne's car conspicuously absent. He eased to a stop along the curb, not wanting to block her entry, should she return during his visit.

He stepped out of his vehicle, his hand patting his shirt pocket. He had just made the most important purchase of his life and he couldn't wait to tell his best friend. He felt as though he were walking on air with each step taking him closer to the house. With the garage exposed, he saw several of Roy's tools lying strewn about.

"Uh-oh," he mumbled to himself. He recognized the signs of Joanne's so called 'honey-do' list being worked on and briefly thought of making a hasty retreat. He had gotten caught up in more than one DeSoto disaster when Roy was working with his tools. He could hear the banging going on from inside the house and knew he couldn't leave poor Roy to handle things alone.

Without knocking, he entered the residence through the door that connected the kitchen with the garage and nearly laughed out loud. There, onhis hands and knees, his upper body partially obscured by the kitchen cabinet beneath the sink, mumbling a string of expletives, was Roy. The banging sounds Johnny had heard were obviously coming from Roy's frustration being displayed against the pipes beneath the sink.

Johnny opened his mouth to announce his arrival, but being in the good mood he was, he decided to have a little fun with his partner. He quietly slipped off his shoes and walked, sock-footed, across the kitchen floor until he was standing behind Roy.

"C'mon, you stubborn bastard," Roy cursed, squirming as he tried to gain better access to the faulty pipe. "Damn it!"

Johnny's face turned crimson red as he worked hard to prevent his guffaws from bubbling to the surface. The more Roy squirmed, the more his jeans seemed to slip down his hips, eventually revealing more to Johnny than he wanted to see. Seeing a dishtowel draped over the dishes drying in the rack beside the sink, Johnny couldn't resist the urge. He carefully removed the cloth, leaned over and allowed the fringes to lightly brush across Roy's lower back, causing the older man to shudder.

"Aww, hell," Roy continued swearing, completely unaware that his partner was the cause of the unusual sensation he had felt. He reached beside him, grabbing a different wrench.

Once again, Johnny leaned over, only this time, he rolled up the dishtowel, dipping one end into the edge of Roy's sagging jeans and lightly brushed it across his partner's exposed butt crack.

"Damn it, Jo, this isn't the time," Roy groused, continuing with his job at hand. "I'm still pissed!"

Johnny squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stifle his laughter. Spying a glass of ice water sitting on the counter, he reached in, withdrawing an ice cube.

"Stupid-ass piece o' shit," Roy continued, unaware that hovering dangerously close to his semi-naked backside, his partner was holding a melting piece of ice – a drop of cold water poised to drip directly into his crevice. With one final tug, the sink pipe broke free just as the ice cube slipped from Johnny's fingers, becoming partially wedged at the zenith of Roy's buttocks.

"Motherf-Umph!" Roy's body bucked in reaction to the icy cold water slipping down his crack, his swear cut off by his head slamming against the underside of the porcelain sink.

Roy pulled the rest of his body from beneath the sink, his white tee shirt stained with dirty sink water that had been inadvertently splashed on him. "Jo!"

Johnny's hysterical cackles caused Roy's already frustrated mood to turn even more sour. He pointed his greasy, dirty finger towards his laughing comrade. "You!"

"Hahaha! Yep, it's me, pally. Sorry it wasn't your wife playin' with your ass," Johnny snickered, knowing that he would eventually pay for his dirty deed, but right now, he was enjoying the fun.

"Yea… well… I'm in no mood for her to play with my ass," he responded, a slight smile creeping onto his ruddy face. Roy couldn't stay mad at his friend for long. He knew he must look a sight, and he had to admit, Johnny pulled a good one over on him. "Payback's hell, you know that, right, Junior?"

Johnny reached his hand out, helping Roy to his feet, snickering again when Roy pulled his jeans up higher on his hips. "Aww, don't worry. I've seen your ass too many times to count. No sense tryin' to hide it from me now," he laughed.

Roy picked up the wrench from the floor, playfully shaking it in Johnny's direction. "Alright, Chet better not hear about my plumber's crack!" He reached beneath the sink with his free hand and retrieved the loose piece of pipe.

Johnny raised his hands in mock surrender. "No worries, Pally. Besides, no one is gonna mention a plumber's crack to you… not after… well… you know." The younger man began to stammer, hoping he hadn't touched on a raw nerve.

It had been months since Roy and Joanne's misunderstanding about Lane Coulter, the neighborhood plumber. Roy had jumped to conclusions about Joanne having an affair and had come dangerously close to compromising his own marital vows. The senior medic had also come close to losing his best friend over the entire incident because Johnny had cared enough to confront him about his behavior. He would always carry even more respect for his partner because of it.

Roy saw the boyish grin returning to Johnny's face and had to ask the question. "So, what brings you by my house on this lovely morning?" he questioned, looking at the mess on the kitchen floor and the stains on his tee shirt.

Johnny reached inside his shirt pocket, withdrawing a red velvet box. "I wanted you to be the first to know," he answered, opening the box in Roy's direction.

Roy nearly gasped at the diamond solitaire his partner was holding. "Johnny? Isn't this kind of sudden?"

"Nope," the younger man replied with a grin. "I've known since I first met Lily that I wanted to marry her. I lost her once before and since she's been gone back to Alabama, it's almost like I've lost her again. The absence let me know that… Well… I can't imagine my life without her in it."

"Man, you've got it bad, Junior," Roy said, his own face beaming almost as much as his partner's. "Congratulations!" He reached out his hand, but laughed when Johnny refused to shake it. "Oh, yea… Guess I should turn the water back on, so I can wash my hands."

"Might want to put the pipes back together first," Johnny snickered, repocketing the ring.

"Oh… yea, speaking of ring," Roy said, pulling a few paper towels from the roll near the sink. He folded them up, then tapped the pipe on the soft towels, dislodging a clump of nasty goop.

Joanne suddenly came barging through the door, tossing her purse onto the counter, her face tear-stained. "Did you get the ring?"

Johnny's chin dropped. "Jo, how'd you know I was-"

"Yes, right here, honey," Roy said, removing the golden band from the debris pile on the paper towels. "Please, from now on, clean your ring in a bowl instead of the sink."

"Oh, Roy," she wept, placing the ring on the third finger of her left hand. "I was so afraid I had lost it forever… Please forgive me?"

"It was an accident, Jo, and I know that. I'm sorry I got angry with you," he said, kissing her lightly on her cheek, hoping for more a little later.

"Ahem."

Both DeSotos looked over at the obviously happy young man rocking back on his heels. "I have an announcement, Jo," Johnny said, winking playfully at his partner.

"Oh?" Joanne turned to give him her full attention. "What did you do to Chet?" she chuckled to herself.

"ME?" Johnny asked, his hand splayed over his chest. " Now, why would I do something to Chet?"

Joanne raised one eyebrow in response.

"Okay, I know, but not this time," he said, reaching into his shirt pocket again. "I've decided to ask Lily to marry me."

Joanne's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "Oh, my goodness, Johnny! It's beautiful; she's going to be so excited!" She wrapped her arms around his neck, truly overjoyed that her young friend had found the woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

When Joanne released him, he looked back at the ring. He tilted it in the light of the kitchen, pleased with how it sparkled. He had been saving his money for a down payment on a house one day, but the house would have to wait. It might take another year or so before he could afford the down payment, but at least the house he bought would be a home with Lily by his side.

"I'm going to buy a dozen red roses and propose to her as soon as she walks through the gate at the airport on Sunday," he said proudly.

Roy and Joanne exchanged a brief but worried glance.

"Um, Sunday?" Roy asked, realizing that their surprise party was going to ruin Johnny's plans.

"Well, yea. It'll be the first time I've seen her in weeks, and I want to drop on one knee as soon as she sees me."

"Oh, Johnny, I think that's a perfect plan," Joanne said, stepping closer to him. "But, you know it's bad luck for the potential groom to keep the engagement ring at his apartment before he proposes," she said, slipping her fingers into his shirt pocket. "So, we'll keep it locked up in our safe. Then you can stop by here on Sunday morning and pick it up on your way to the airport."

Johnny knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. He had never heard of such a thing. "What? Are you sure?"

Roy, understanding what Jo was doing, chimed in. "Oh, yea, I almost forgot about that. Don't want to jinx your marriage before it starts; do you?"

"Well… no, but-"

"Then, no buts, Junior. We'll take care of the ring and you just think about what you want to say to that pretty little lady as soon as you see her," he said, wrapping his arm around Johnny's shoulder, forgetting about the sweat and grime covering his arm.

"Um… yea, okay… if you're sure," the dark-haired man stammered.

"Would we steer you wrong?" Joanne asked, rhetorically. "Now, you just run along to Bloomers and order the flowers. Chet is keeping Corrie today while Caroline works. You know she'll create something special for you."

Johnny's crooked smile broke through his doubt. "Yea, you're right. Sunday will be here soon, won't it?"

Roy and Joanne stood in their front doorway, waving to Johnny as he drove away.

"Whew, that was close," Joanne mumbled.

"You are one smart lady, Mrs. DeSoto," Roy said, proudly, wanting to wrap his arms around her but knowing not to in his current filthy condition. "How'd you come up with that story so fast."

Joanne grinned at him mischievously. "If you go take a shower, I'll bet I can get something else to come up quickly."

Roy immediately stripped off his shirt. "Yes, ma'am," he said turning for the stairs. "I like the way you think."

Joanne giggled to herself, looking at the engagement ring she held in her hands. She had never gotten an engagement ring; Roy couldn't afford one at the time. It didn't matter to her. She had married, and nearly lost, the most wonderful man in the world to her. She looked down at the plain gold band, the one Roy had just removed from the kitchen sink. It represented their marriage, in more ways than one. It had nearly been lost and had been salvaged from the muck and mire. And when she cleaned it up, it would look good as new. "I love you, Roy DeSoto," she said to herself, following him toward their bedroom. She had to lock up Johnny's ring.

Walking by the telephone, she suddenly remembered where Johnny was going. "Oh no," she muttered. "I've got to warn Caroline."

E!

On Thursday morning, Mike was running late for his shift; well, later than his usual half hour early. In frustration, he shoved his way through the locker room door, nearly bumping into Marco.

"Good Morning, Stoker."

"Morning."

Marco was accustomed to his engineer being a man of few words, but he wasn't used to seeing him quite so glum at the beginning of a shift. "You, ah, you might like to know that Bri is staying with Mama and Lexi. They seem to be getting along well; at least, that's what Mama told me."

"That's good."

Mike placed his extra uniforms in his locker along with his bag. He hadn't spoken to Lexi in several days, so the mention of her name did nothing to improve his mood. He closed his locker door and headed for the kitchen.

Marco gave the paramedics a knowing look. Johnny, standing in front of his locker wearing his undershirt, reached inside to retrieve his uniform. "What's eatin' him?"

"I don't know," Marco replied, pulling open the locker room door. "But I'm sure my sister has something to do with it."

Roy waited for the lineman to leave before turning to his partner. "So, are you going to make the big announcement?"

Johnny finished buttoning his shirt, stuffing his shirttail into his pants. "Nope."

"Why not?"

"Two reasons," Johnny said propping one foot on the bench in front of them to tie his shoe. "Reason number one, I don't want to jinx it. I'm gonna wait until she says yes." He switched his stance to tie the other shoe. "and second-"

"Mornin' fellas," Chet said, scurrying into the room.

Johnny stood up straight, stepping in front of his partner to reach for the door. "And he's reason number two."

Johnny and Roy walked across the apparatus bay headed for the kitchen and what they hoped was fresh coffee. As soon as the door opened, Johnny's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Samford Bennett, the arson investigator, was standing beside the kitchen table, his arms crossed over his chest while Mike, Marco, and Hank all leaned in closely, staring at a piece of charred metal resting in the center of the table.

"Hi, Sam," Roy spoke up, stretching out his hand to welcome the arson investigator to their station.

"What's that?" Johnny questioned, his eyebrows knitted together as he stared at the unidentifiable mass.

"That's a UFO, Johnny," Marco spoke up.

"It's a… a what?"

"You heard him, John," Hank chimed in.

Samford almost laughed at the look on the junior medic's face. "Amy's diner wasn't damaged by an explosion."

Johnny looked up, his face covered in confusion. "Huh?"

"But what about the hole in the roof," Roy added, seemingly as mystified as his partner.

Samford waved his hand in the direction of the piece of debris. "The hole came first… then the explosion."

"Wait… are you saying that… this, flew through the roof and caused all that damage?" Roy asked.

"Well, it isn't exactly a UFO. I mean, we know it's part of an airplane engine, probably a turbine blade, but it's so heavily damaged that it's hard to determine for sure. We know a plane made an emergency landing in San Diego shortly after the incident at The Pourhouse. There were a few other reports of debris damaging cars, also. When I mapped out the time line of the airplane's distress call and the calls that came in during that same time frame, it creates an obvious debris field. Lots of very lucky people… well, except for Bri and Amy, I guess."

The normally quiet engineer chose that moment to speak up. "Sounds to me like there's an airline company that owes Amy and Bri damages."

"We think alike, Stoker," the arson investigator added. "As soon as we run a few more tests for confirmation, I think those two ladies need to talk to an attorney about handling their case. I know both of them could use the money," he said, not wanting to disclose what he knew about Bri's dire financial situation. He had a plan to help her out in the immediate future because he knew cases like these could be tied up in court for years. But he wasn't ready to share his plans with anyone else. He preferred to do things behind the scenes.

"Oh-no," Roy mumbled, staring at his partner's face as it morphed from confusion to mischief. "I've seen that look before."

"This is good… This is gonna be REAL good," Johnny said, slapping his hands together and rubbing them briskly. "Not a word to Chet, understand?"

"Stop talkin' about me. I'm here, a'right!" Chet called out, rushing through the door. He stopped suddenly, turning his attention to the middle of the kitchen table. "What the he-"

"Hey, Chet," Johnny jumped in, preventing the curse from being spoken. "I'm… Oh, man," Johnny said, spinning one of the chairs around so he could sit in it with his forearms resting on the back of the chair. "Of all the rotten luck!"

"What are you fellas talkin' about. What's that?" Chet asked, unaware that he was taking Johnny's bait.

"It's a UFO, Chet. It's the UFO that crashed into Amy's diner… part of it anyway," Johnny added.

"You're lyin', Gage. I don't see any little green men," Chet said, waxing his mustache with his fingers, waiting for the others to agree with him. But their serious gazes made him uneasy.

"Umm," Chet stammered. "Fellas?"

Sam, always eager for some good-natured ribbing, joined in with the fun. "I brought it by here to show you all, Chet. This caused that big hole in Amy's roof."

"You mean… it blew IN, not OUT?" the lineman questioned.

"That's right," Marco added. "It's a real unidentified flying object."

"Oh, c'mon, knock it off, okay?" Chet questioned, his blue eyes darting from fireman to fireman in search of a hint of a joke. He found none. "Okay?"

Before anyone could speak, the klaxons sounded, calling out the engine crew to a dumpster fire. The paramedics and the investigator watched as Mike pulled the engine into traffic, heading on their first call of the shift.

As soon as they were gone, Johnny's face broke out into a wide grin. "Oh, yea… this is gonna be so much fun." He darted out the kitchen door, shouting over his shoulder. "Not a word, Roy."

Roy looked over at Samford and rolled his eyes. "Welcome to my world."

Both men laughed out loud as Roy finally made his way to the coffee pot. "Need a warmer?" he asked holding it up in Samford's direction.

"Yea..." Samford grabbed up his cup, extending it to Roy. "I have a question for you."

"Sure."

Sam glanced back over his shoulder making sure that Johnny was out of hearing range. "I went by the hospital on Sunday to interview Bri. I ran into Lexi in the parking lot and she, um, she invited me to Johnny's surprise party. I just wanted to make sure that was okay since you and Joanne are hosting it."

Roy grinned. "Absolutely, the more the merrier."

"Good… I just wasn't sure. So," he mentioned, lifting the mug to his mouth. "What can I do to help?"

Roy set the coffee pot back down on the stove. "Well… I have an idea. Can you pick up a couple of very special guests at LAX before you come over?"

E!

Behind the station, Johnny was taking advantage of the engine crew's absence. He quickly dipped his fingers into the canister and planted more of the green goop on the driver's side door handle. He snickered to himself as he thought of what Chet would think when he tried to open his van door.

"Hahaha," he cackled to himself. "Little green men, my ass."

"What are you doing, Johnny?" Roy asked, walking with Sam back to his car.

"Oh, nothin' much… Just givin' the Phantom a taste of his own medicine," he said, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Samford laughed, turning to shake hands with Roy. He then turned to Johnny with the same gesture but seeing the remnants of the younger medic's misbehavior clinging to his fingers, quickly pocketed his hand.

"Oh, yea… Sorry," Johnny said, flinging his hand towards the cement to remove the mess. Unable to remove it all, he wiped his hand along his pant leg before extending his hand, but the klaxons sounded before he had a chance to complete the gesture.

"Catch you guys later," the investigator called out, waving as he got into his car.

E!

Lexi tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep. She reached for her bedside clock, tilting it so that the glow from the streetlight helped her see the time.

"Ugh," she groaned, returning the ticking instrument back to its original place. "It's only midnight," she whispered to herself.

Tossing the covers off her legs, she slipped out of bed and clicked on her lamp. No one else would be awake at this hour, so she tip-toed over to her desk and carefully pulled the chair out far enough for her to take a seat. Opening the middle drawer, she removed the journal along with the envelope where she was hiding her cash. Her fingers trembled as she removed the money and began counting and recounting it.

Sighing, she returned the bills into the envelope and slipped it back inside the journal. The few bills she had managed to collect weren't nearly enough. She had to find some way to make more money because her time was running out.

She made her way back to her bed and was reaching toward her nightstand to turn off her lamp when a very dark thought crossed her mind. Slowly she opened the drawer and withdrew the small box her mother had given her shortly after her rescue. Lifting off the lid, she removed the antique rosary. It had been so long since she had actually prayed the rosary. Her fingers ran across each bead, remembering how she had watched her mother holding it and praying as her fingers seemed to work their way around the precious representation of their faith. She considered her options – pawning the item she now held in her hands or returning to the streets for a few weeks. With her mind made up, she carefully placed the rosary back inside its box and returned it to the drawer. Objects could only be sold once, but she could be sold repeatedly. She could make more than enough money by working her old familiar strip as an independent prostitute, even though the stakes were much higher when working without a pimp. Yet, she knew that the day was quickly approaching when the only thing she might have left to hand down to her only child was the rosary she just stowed away in her nightstand. No, she could never sell such a prized possession. It had too much sentimental value. Her eyes welled with tears as she pondered the absurdity of it all. It was ironic that she considered herself worthless; yet knew that she could make the money she needed quickly by repeatedly selling her body.

E!

The following morning shift change was running smoothly at Station 51. The previous night had been a quiet one. The men were all looking forward to a couple of days off which included an impromptu surprise party for Johnny. He knew that a couple of the guys were going to meet at Roy's house to take the younger children trick or treating in the DeSoto neighborhood and then grill some burgers afterwards. The young man had no idea what was in store for him.

"Roy, I just got off the phone with Caroline," Chet said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the station pay phone. He pulled out a chair from the kitchen table where Marco had just placed a plate of eggs and toast. "She said she was bringing the sliced vegetables for the burgers. I'm supposed to pick up buns on my way home. How many are ya cookin'?"

Johnny was oblivious to the quick wink the Irishman had tossed to the senior medic. Roy's confused face immediately morphed into understanding when he saw Chet's quick gesture. The always calm mannered medic pretended to complete the addition in his head.

"Um… Let's see there'll be four kids and, uh, you and Caroline, Marco and Beverly, and Jo and myself. So, I'd say, maybe… sixteen?" His inflection letting Chet know that he understood what was happening.

"Haha," the lineman guffawed. "I think you forgot someone. Johnny can eat more than any of us."

The mention of his name brought Johnny's attention to the table. "Ya talkin' to me?"

"Nope," Chet grinned, leaning back in his seat. "We're talkin' ABOUT you. That's different."

"Oh yea, well what about me?"

Chet snickered; he enjoyed razzing his pigeon more than anything. "Humph, that's for me to know and you to find out, Gage."

Johnny's eyes darted back and forth between Chet and Roy. Roy immediately diverted his gaze, afraid that he might give something away if he continued participating in the charade. The shift immediately made Johnny suspicious and he narrowed his eyes at his long-time friend.

"Roy… aw, man… you didn't tell him… did ya?"

Roy shifted his gaze from his coffee cup to his obviously perturbed partner. "How'd I get into this conversation?"

"Because Chet said you fellas had been talkin' about me. I mean, you heard 'im. So… Did you?" the junior man asked, worried that his friend had possibly betrayed his trust.

"Tell me what?" Now it was Chet's turn to question Roy.

Roy looked up, his head shifting from one man to the other. Under any other circumstances, he would have chuckled, but he was already feeling the pressure of making sure that everything ran smoothly for the surprise party. He pushed his chair away from the table, pouring out the remainder of his coffee in the sink and leaving his dirty mug there. "I hope Dwyer's here," he mumbled, exiting the kitchen with the two shiftmates yapping at his heels as he made his way towards the locker room.

The majority of B-shift had already arrived, and Roy found his relief man changing clothes in front of his locker. Ignoring the bantering going on between Chet and Johnny, the red-haired paramedic opened his locker and began changing into his street clothes for his return trip home.

"C'mon, Roy… did ya or didn't ya?"

"Did he or didn't he what?" Chet questioned; he hated it when Johnny knew something he didn't.

"Let it go, Junior. I didn't tell him anything," Roy replied, never looking up at either man as he continued changing his clothes. "And Chet, if Johnny has something to tell you, I'm sure he will do it when he's ready." He gathered up his belongings and headed for the door, tuning out the noises of the two men following him.

Dwyer looked over at his partner who was pinning on his badge. "How does DeSoto keep his sanity?" he asked, rhetorically, shaking his head and snickering.

Behind the station, Roy tossed his bag into the passenger's seat of his Porsche. He fished his keys out of his pocket before opening his door.

"Wait a minute, Roy," Johnny called out. "I wanna know what you and Kelly were talkin' about," he said, his unkempt hair blowing in the morning breeze.

"You," Roy deadpanned, slipping behind the wheel.

Chet, having achieved his goal of frustrating Johnny, fought hard not to laugh as he walked behind Roy's car towards the place where his van was parked. He turned his back to the dueling duo and reached for the door handle. "What the hell?"

Johnny, having forgotten until now, his misdeed from the previous day looked up, doing his best to look innocent. "Somethin' wrong, Chet?" he asked, knowingly tapping Roy on the shoulder.

Roy shook his head, slipping the key into the ignition. He really needed to get away from these two.

"What the hell is this, Johnny? And why do you keep leaving it on my stuff," the lineman shouted, his anger beginning to roil as he wiped the unknown substance on his pant leg.

"Me?" the paramedic countered, splaying his hand across his chest. "What makes you think I did it?"

"Because it oozes of John Gage – LITERALLY!"

"Ugh, I'm crushed, Chester," Johnny replied, feigning a stabbing pain in the vicinity of his heart.

Chet sat behind the wheel of his van, glancing around to see if any globs of goo had been planted inside his vehicle. Seeing nothing, he pointed his index finger in Johnny's direction. "The Phantom is watching you!"

"Yea, well… Those little green men must be watching you!" Johnny returned with a chuckle, stepping over to his own vehicle and climbing inside. His plan was working nicely. Now all he had to do was get the rest of the prank ready for Chet on the patio of the DeSoto residence tonight. He smirked to himself as he drove away, his windows rolled down and the cool morning air blowing in his face. Two more days and he would be asking the most important question of his life… She had to say yes… She would say yes… Wouldn't she?

E!

A/N: I want to thank all of you for reading and especially for sharing your thoughts with me. The last few months have been particularly difficult for my family and me. Not only was I diagnosed with cancer, but two days after my surgery, my father had a massive stroke and died a few days later – all in a matter of seven days. This was totally unexpected. I am still undergoing testing to determine the best course of treatment and dealing with my grief. For those of you who have known about these events and have sent me encouragement and offered prayers on my behalf, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. I had to put my writing on hold for a while. However, my muse is beginning to hang out with me again, so I hope to update sooner next time.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The cool, crisp autumn air whipped around inside Johnny's Rover as he headed down the 405 on his way to the DeSotos' house. He had agreed to assist Roy with Trick-or-Treating duties in their neighborhood, but now he was wishing he hadn't accepted the invitation. He still had to figure out exactly how he was going to propose to Lily and he was only a matter of hours away – less than 40, to be exact. Now he had a six-year old waiting impatiently for tonight. Jennifer had been proudly telling everyone that she and her Uncle Johnny had a Halloween date. Did the precocious little girl even know what a date was? He didn't know, but if she hadn't been so excited, and if he hadn't promised Roy he would help, he certainly would not be spending the next few hours walking around a neighborhood with young children dressed in costumes. Even worse, he really didn't want to be around the kids after they had eaten their fill of candy. But a smirk crossed his chiseled face. He cast a quick glance to the passenger's seat and the benign brown bag resting there. He knew that Chet would be attending the small gathering, having agreed to take Corrie around the neighborhood with the DeSoto kids. Johnny thought of Chet as just a big kid, and big kids often got pranked on Halloween.

As he continued to make his way to his destination, his thoughts turned from tonight's festivities to the lady of his dreams. He had not spoken to Lily in several days, and he hoped that nothing had changed with her plans to return on Sunday. It had seemed like an eternity since he had seen her. He missed her sweet smile, her beautiful eyes, and the way her body fit perfectly against his own when they embraced. He was lost in his reminiscing when a loud honking sound jolted him back to the present. Looking up, he noticed that he was sitting still at a green light. Waving his apologies to the offended driver behind him, he accelerated and soon turned onto the DeSotos' street.

Parking his Rover in his usual spot along the curb, he grabbed the brown paper bag and headed for the front door. With any luck, they would make quick work of Trick-or-Treating. He'd eat a burger, enjoy the mess Chet would find himself in, and then head on home. He had to work on his proposal for Sunday morning. Normally a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants kind of guy, Johnny wanted his proposal to be perfect in every way.

He stepped onto the small front porch and from inside, he could hear Jennifer whining and crying. His stomach knotted, and he rolled his eyes with a loud exhalation. How was he supposed to deal with a six-year old girl's tears and foul mood when he had so much on his mind?

He knocked while turning the doorknob and walked inside, knowing there was no need to wait for an invitation to enter what he often referred to as his second home. Setting his bag down in the chair beside the front door, he took a seat beside the sniveling girl on the sofa. "Hey, what's wrong, Jenny?" he asked, keenly aware that there were no tears dampening her cheeks. From experience, he knew that meant that she was more angry than upset.

The child opened her pouty mouth to respond just as her father's voice boomed from the kitchen.

"She's in time-out."

Johnny gave the child a knowing look. "What did you do?"

"N-nothin'," she stuttered, not wanting her favorite uncle to know of her misdeed.

"SHAZAM!" Chris shouted, leaping into the room from the third step of the staircase.

"DADDY! Chris did it, too!" Jennifer cried out, not wanting her brother to get away with something for which she was being punished.

"Christopher DeSoto!" Roy's red face suddenly appeared in the living room. He was angrier than Johnny had ever seen him at his two children.

"But Dad! I'm Captain Marvel and I'm more powerful than Isis!"

"Are not!"

"Am so!"

"Nu-uh!"

"Uh-huh!" Chris strutted in front of Jennifer with his chest out, sporting his red costume with the gold lightning bolt on the front.

Jennifer's final retort was to stick her tongue out at her brother.

Johnny fought the snicker that was trying to surface as the banter between the children continued. He knew his partner was not in a laughing mood. He was about to interrupt the children's arguing when suddenly Roy's normally soft-spoken voice shifted into a deep growl.

"Park it, Chris," Roy ordered, pointing his finger at the chair opposite the sofa. "Now!" He waited for his son to comply with his command. "I've about had it with both of you," he said, shifting his stern blue eyes from one child to the other. "If I hear another peep out of either of you, there will be no Trick-or-Treating tonight, understand?"

Both children sat quietly, arms folded over their chests. Jennifer, her legs being too short to touch the floor, began bouncing them in frustration. Johnny could practically hear his partner's blood boiling through his veins. The younger man slipped his hand over to Jennifer's bouncing leg, patting it gently in an effort to settle her down. He was grateful when the annoying movement stopped.

Satisfied that the crisis was over, at least for the moment, Roy returned to the kitchen to finish slicing the onions for the hamburgers. Johnny followed behind him, his bag of tricks for Chet completely forgotten.

Johnny, not wanting to upset his partner further, retrieved a knife from the kitchen drawer and began slicing the tomatoes. The duo worked in silence for a few moments.

"Got a lot of vegetables here for just a few folks, Roy," Johnny commented, seeing the pile of lettuce, tomatoes, and onions Roy was arranging onto serving plates.

Roy deadpanned, never missing a beat. "Remember last year, when the neighbors stopped by? Never know who might show up," he said, covering the dishes with plastic wrap and placing them in the refrigerator. "Besides, the Lopez family is also coming over so Marco can take Antonio Trick-or-Treating with us."

"Oh… No Lexi, huh?"

Roy turned around to face his partner, shaking his head.

There was a moment of silence between the two, neither man wanting to voice their opinions of Marco's sister.

Roy was the first to speak. "I'm so glad you're here to help me with those two," he said, jerking his head in the direction of the living room. "They've been awful this afternoon," he groused.

"Wonder what's up?"

"I guess Jen is just excited about her date with you, and… I dunno… Maybe Chris is kind of jealous that she's getting special time with you." Roy shrugged his shoulders. "Anyway, thanks again for helping out with them. I don't know what Jo and I would do without you, Johnny." Roy knew he was laying it on thick, as some would say, but he needed to make sure Johnny stayed at the cookout until the other special guests arrived, even if that meant using a little well-placed guilt on the younger man's shoulders.

Johnny blushed a shade of crimson. He really hadn't wanted to be here, but his presence was wanted by the younger two DeSotos and definitely needed by the older two. That made him feel good, like he belonged. He stepped to the kitchen sink, washing off the knife and his hands. He looked up from the sink, seeing the deck prepped for the cookout that would follow the evenings festivities. Spying a small red ice chest, he immediately thought of a way to make things up to Chris, and perhaps keep the sibling rivalry down for the rest of the night.

Roy glanced at his watch. "Joanne ought to be finished in the shower. Do you think you can keep those two from flying off the stairs again while I go get cleaned up?"

"Are they being paroled?"

Roy smiled. "Them, yes… you… not so fast," he chuckled.

"Okay, I get it… I'll try to keep all three of us out of trouble, but… Mind if I use that red ice chest for a little Phantom payback?"

"Johnny…," Roy shook his head, then thought about all the times that his naïve partner had been the butt of Chet's jokes. He acquiesced. "Sure… I'll let Jo know not to let anyone go near it, but-"

Before Roy could ask Johnny to make sure the kids weren't involved in the prank, a feminine shriek came from the living room. The two men scrambled around the corner, expecting the worst. Jennifer's face was wrinkled in a grimace and Christopher was grinning mischievously.

"EEWWW!" the little girl repeated.

"Far out, Uncle Johnny," Christopher commented, amazed at what he had found inside the forgotten brown bag. "Dad, Uncle Johnny brought a bucket o' snot!"

Johnny could feel the color draining from his face. "Uh, Chris, no, that isn't… I mean, it 'snot… Ugh, it isn't snot, it's-"

"JUNIOR!" Roy said in a raised voice, his eyes shooting daggers at his younger partner. Did the childless man know that he had just thrown fuel on a raging inferno?

"Guess my parole just got revoked."

Roy pressed his lips into a thin line, narrowing his eyes at his friend. "Please get control of my house for me while I go take a shower."

"Will do, Pally," Johnny replied, removing the paraphernalia from Chris' hands and returning it to the bag. "Um, maybe you should take a cold shower," he tossed in Roy's direction, hoping to settle his angry partner down a bit. "Might cool you off."

Roy turned towards the stairs. "Every shower taken after Joanne's IS a cold shower," he muttered.

Johnny watched his partner disappear up the stairs, then turned his attention back to the bickering DeSoto youngsters.

"Isis can't fly like Superman," Chris spat out.

"You ain't Superman, dummy!"

Johnny rolled his eyes. "Jennifer, Chris isn't a dummy and Chris," he continued, turning to the young boy. "Don't pester your sister. Now, your Dad is already mad, so just try to settle down, a'right?"

Both children sat back, glaring at each other. Chris narrowed his eyes, silently daring his little sister to stick her tongue out again. When he realized she wasn't going to, he picked up the brown paper sack.

"Uncle Johnny," he quizzed, reaching back inside the bag. "Are you gonna play a trick on Uncle Chet?"

"Um…," he hesitated, realizing that this was his big chance. "Okay, Jenny, please go upstairs and put your shoes on. I have a special project that I need Chris' help with, and then you and I will be ready to go on our date," he said, offering her his trademark grin and a quick wink. He knew the ol' Gage charm worked on young women; he prayed it would work on the young Miss DeSoto, too. When he saw her scramble from her seat, heading for the stairs, he turned to Chris.

"A'right… It's jus' you and me… Grab that bag and come give me a hand… but don't tell anybody… especially not the girls, deal?" He reached out his hand, pleased with himself when Chris proudly shook it.

E!

Roy slipped inside the master bedroom, locking the door behind him. He turned around into the arms of his towel-clad wife.

"Is everything okay?"

Roy looked at her, a big grin spreading across his face. "Johnny's getting a taste of family life… He may never want kids after ours get through with him tonight."

Joanne's smile brightened her face. "That bad, huh?"

"Right now, that partner of mine is refereeing our children's little spat." He stepped into the bathroom, Joanne following close behind him to finish up her make-up. He gave her the details of everything that she had missed as he disrobed. When he was finished, he stepped into the shower, turned on the water and raised his voice so Joanne could hear him. "Anyway, so Chris takes that little can of goop out of the sack – the stuff Johnny's been using to torture Chet with over the last few weeks, and he starts playing with it," he said, dipping his head into the spray of warm water. "And Jen started screaming 'eww' at Chris. I swear, Jo, I don't know how you do it."

Joanne snorted her own laughter, having to pause in applying her mascara. "Humph, sounds like a typical day at the DeSoto residence," she sneered, leaning forward to get closer to the mirror that was quickly fogging up with the steam. Roy didn't answer, having not heard her comment above the sound of the water, and she hoped she hadn't just put him into an even worse mood by her cynical comment. She bit her lower lip, wondering if she had made a mistake. Then allowed a flirtatious grin to cross her face. She knew how to appease her husband and make him forget all about her comment.

She finished her make-up, then paused until the mirror was completely fogged up. Using her finger, she wrote a simple message on the bathroom mirror, then stepped back into their bedroom to finish getting dressed.

Roy turned off the water, drying himself before stepping out of the shower. He towel-dried his hair, then wrapped the towel around his waist. When he glanced up into the mirror, a smile spread over his face. He opened the door, allowing some of the steam to escape. He caught sight of Joanne pulling an orange blouse over her pale skin. Slipping over to her, he silently reached around her abdomen, kissing her gently on the neck.

"I can't wait," he whispered, seductively, into her ear, referring to the message left on the bathroom mirror.

"Not until our guests have left and the kids are in bed," she said, sinking back into his embrace. She loved how his strong body held her firmly, yet gently. His job kept him in great shape, something she admired… and that made her heart fill with lust for the man she loved so much.

Roy nibbled her earlobe then stepped away. "You torture me, Mrs. DeSoto," he replied, playfully slapping her backside.

"I love you, Mr. DeSoto," she replied, her voice throaty. "And the wait will be well worth it," she said, looking in the dresser mirror and offering his reflection a knowing wink.

Knowing he needed to change the subject before his body further betrayed his desires, Roy stepped over to his chest-of-drawers and removed boxers and a tee shirt. "So… have you and Caroline worked out the details?"

"Yes, we have." Joanne proceeded to fill him in on the plan while they finished getting ready. Both of them knew that Johnny was going to be shocked… if he survived his time with his surrogate niece and nephew, first.

E!

"Corrie, you look just like a ladybug," Chet chuckled, trying to snap a picture of his future stepdaughter as she pranced around Caroline's apartment. "I really like the black dot on the end of your nose."

Corrie paused in front of the full-length mirror in her mother's bedroom. She grinned at her reflection. She wore black tights beneath a pair of red shorts, a red bodysuit with pinned on black dots of felt, and a set of black cardboard wings that Chet had fashioned using of a pair of little boy's suspenders attached to her shorts. Her face was adorned with rosy cheeks painted on using a heaping amount of her mother's cream blush and a black nose – compliments of Caroline's eyeliner.

"Now for your antennae," Caroline laughed. She had used one of Corrie's headbands, a couple of pipe cleaners, and two small painted Styrofoam balls to create the perfect addition to her daughter's costume. She brushed Corrie's hair back, slipping the headband into place, then stepped back to admire her creation.

"You are the cutest ladybug I ever did see," she laughed.

"Will I get lots o' candy?" the little girl asked, her eyes wide.

"I'll bet you surely will," Chet answered, kneeling down to look at her at eye level. "Do you want to wear your ladybug bracelet, I bought you?"

"YESSS!"

As soon as the jewelry was in place, the trio made their way to Chet's van. Chet helped Corrie climb into the backseat, then took his place in the driver's seat, beside his beautiful fiancée.

"Don't forget, honey, I need to stop by Bloomers on our way over to the DeSotos'. I've got to pick up the flowers for the surprise tonight."

Chet nodded, adjusting his mirror to take another glance at the child in the backseat. She wasn't his by blood, but she had definitely taken over his heart. "Remember, ladybug, don't tell Uncle Johnny about the flowers, okay?"

"I know. I won't," she laughed, scrunching up her shoulders. "Is Antonio there yet?"

"He'll be there before it's time to go Trick-or-Treating," Caroline answered.

"He's gonna be a cowboy, right, Mommy?"

"That's right, sweetie."

Corrie's face lit up in a bright smile, then her eyebrows knitted together. "Do cowboys like ladybugs?"

Chet stifled a chuckle. "I'll bet they do… especially Antonio."

Corrie looked back down at her ladybug bracelet, remembering that she had received it as a gift when Mr. Chet had asked her mommy to marry him. She rubbed the bracelet with her fingers. "I'm gonna marry Antonio one day," she muttered softly.

Chet coughed into his hand, trying his best not to laugh at the little girl's comment. "His Uncle Marco is gonna take him Trick-or-Treating just like I'm takin' you," Chet explained, pulling into traffic.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Caroline's lips press together in a thin line. He understood what she was thinking, but neither of them would voice it in front of Corrie. He also knew that Marco wasn't happy about it, either. This party had been planned by his sister. It was also the first chance she would have to take her son Trick-or-Treating, and as far as they knew, she wasn't even planning on attending the event. How could she miss such precious times with her son?

"Time stands still for no one," Caroline mumbled, thinking about all the things Lexi had missed, but this time, she was choosing to miss an event. To Caroline, it was inexcusable. "I don't feel sorry for her; not one bit."

"I know, babe," Chet replied, giving Corrie a quick glance in the rearview mirror, making sure the child wasn't overhearing their conversation. "I don't know what to say. Marco is mad as he-um, heck about it."

"I don't ever want to think of anyone as a lost cause, but…"

"Then don't, Caroline. Don't think it and don't say it. Let's just enjoy tonight and our time together… and know that Johnny is gonna be one happy man when this night is over," he said, making the turn into Bloomer's parking lot.

Caroline offered him a smile. "I can't wait to see the look on his face when he sees her."

E!

Samford Bennett combed and recombed his hair, staring at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. Why was he so nervous? It wasn't a date. He hadn't asked Bri to go with him, but he had been assured that she would be there. The thought made his heart skip a beat. Most men would never consider dating a woman with a past like Bri's, but there was something about her. In spite of all she had been through, there was still a certain type of innocence about the young woman that absolutely stole his heart. He hoped he might have a chance to discuss a job of sorts for her, something to help her meet her financial needs and give him a little piece of mind while he was working. "You're hopeless, Sam," he said to his reflection. "You've got it bad, man!"

Taking one long last look at his appearance, he turned off the light and headed down the long hallway, stopping to knock on his mother's bedroom door.

"Mom?" he called out, much louder than his normal speaking voice.

"Yes, Sam?"

He walked into her room, seeing her sitting with a book in her hand and her small round glasses perched on the end of her nose. "Mom, I'm going out. Are you sure you don't mind?"

Mrs. Bennett looked up at him, her green eyes full of peace and contentment. Her hair was completely white, and her face bore little resemblance to the fresh-faced beauty she had been many years ago. She and her husband had long given up on ever having children, especially after she had gone through what many women of her generation only referred to as 'the change.' But, what she had thought was menopause had actually turned out to be a surprising pregnancy and at the age of 46 years old, she had given birth to a healthy baby boy. She and her husband doted on the little tyke – a fact that should have created a spoiled child, but Samford Bennet had his mother's heart and his father's determination. He was the perfect combination of the two of them – a symbol of their love for each other that lived on, even though the elder Samford Bennett had passed away over ten years ago.

When his father died from a stroke, and his mother's hearing began to decline, Sam made the difficult decision to move back in with her, reclaiming his childhood bedroom. He was afraid for her to live alone, particularly being alone at night. He had only been twenty-one, fresh out of the fire academy, when his father died suddenly. He had never really had much of an independent life because he had returned home. He had never really dated anyone, feeling awkward in intimate relationships. He thought of the irony between his life and Bri's. They couldn't be more different, but he was totally mesmerized by her. He wasn't sure what she might think of him when she found out he lived with his mother… and how would she react to the news that he had never really had a girlfriend, either? His anxiety level rose again. He wanted to be honest with her, needed to be honest with her… but how would she react? Laughter? Pity? He looked back over at his mother who sat still, a questioning look on her face.

"I'm sorry, Mom; did you say something?"

"Why Sammie, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were going out on a date."

A blush colored his neck. She must have said something to him while he was daydreaming about Bri. "Well… kind of. It's a Halloween party for a friend… but there will be a few young ladies there."

She adjusted her small glasses and turned the page of her book. "Have a good time, dear… and don't you worry about me."

"Thanks… I love you, Mom," he said, loud enough for her to hear, then closed her bedroom door and headed for the garage. He had to pick up two of the guests of honor for tonight's festivities, and the traffic around LAX was never easily navigated. He did not want to be late. He scurried to his car and headed for the airport.

E!

"What's wrong with you, Lexi?" Maria Lopez questioned, standing in the doorway of her daughter's bedroom. "You've never had a chance to ever take your son Trick-or-Treating and now he's going without you!"

Lexi's heart was broken. She knew her mother was right, but she also knew that no one else would ever understand… well, no one but Bri. She fought to keep her tears at bay.

"I know, Mama, but… I just don't feel like celebrating tonight."

"Well, it isn't about you! It's about being with your son, AND letting Johnny know how much we love him. Do it for THEM!" Maria hesitated for a moment, but seeing no change in Lexi's attitude, she turned and headed downstairs to help Antonio finish getting ready.

Bri, having overheard the conversation, slipped into Lexi's room. She closed the door and locked it. It was time to confront her friend.

"Guess you came in here to yell at me too, huh?" Lexi asked, nervously watching as Bri turned to face her.

"You're goin' back out there, aren't you?" Bri questioned.

"You're crazy! Of course not!"

"Bullshit!" Bri shot back, her voice slightly lower. "You're trying to make everyone pissed off with you so when you leave it won't hurt so much. We've all done it, Lex. You know it and I know it. You can't lie to me. I've been there, remember? I know what you're doin'… I just don't understand why?"

Lexi looked up at her friend, her eyes welling up with tears. "Yes… Yes, you do understand why. You know what Ricardo is capable of… I can't let it happen…. I WON'T let it happen."

Bri felt her shoulders relaxing. She had finally broken through Lexi's tough outer shell. She walked over to her friend, wrapping her arm around her. "What will your leaving do to your family? Especially little Antonio?"

"I know, Bri!" Lexi stood up, pacing across the hardwood floor of her small room. "He did fine without me once… He'll be fine again… Besides," she said, stopping her pacing and looking at her friend, "he'll…" Lexi nearly revealed her plan to ask Marco and Beverly to adopt Antonio in the event that she died or became incapacitated, but she hadn't actually asked them the question, yet. "He'll have what he needs… He doesn't need me. Don't you see?"

"No… I don't see."

"He doesn't know what I really did out there. He doesn't know that I was a whore, okay? He doesn't know that I was a no-good lot lizard," she said, her voice cracking with emotion.

"So… what? You break his heart just to keep him from finding out that you were victimized? That's ridiculous!"

"Maybe to you… not to me. I've brought shame and heartache to my entire family for over five years. If I can pull this off… they'll never know the truth… the whole truth… You'll be the only one who will know. Swear to me that you won't tell anyone… not for any reason. Please, Bri… swear it!"

Bri's face darkened. "Oh... My... God."

Lexi saw the change in her friend's facial features and knew that she finally understood.

"I know we used to talk about it but… You can't do it, Lexi. You can't. You'll either die or go to prison for the rest of your life. Either way… your family will lose you again!"

The young mother finally allowed her tears to fall freely. "That's… a sacrifice… I'm willing… to make."

E!

In his apartment, Mike was preparing to head over to the DeSotos' home. He couldn't decide how he felt about the event, now that he knew Lexi wasn't going to be there. He had both dreaded seeing her and dreaded not seeing her. Now he would get to spend a little time with Antonio, but again, that would just cause further heartache if the little boy was sad about his mother's absence. He blew out an exasperated sigh, then picked up his telephone. He dialed the familiar number, grateful when the voice that answered was the one he was hoping to speak to.

"Lopez residence."

"Marco? Hey, man… glad it's you. Any change in Lexi's plans?"

"Nope."

"Damn," the engineer cursed.

"Antonio isn't very happy about it either, but he is looking forward to Trick-or-Treating with Corrie."

Mike sighed into the phone. "Well… that's something, I guess. Um… Do you think she might talk to me if I come over?"

Marco hesitated, not wanting his sister to hurt anyone else. But perhaps this was just what Lexi needed. Mike was a man of few words, but his words always counted. He knew how to make the most of them. "Maybe… It's worth a try if you're up to it."

"I'll be over in just a few minutes," he said, fishing his keys out of his right front pocket.

"Thanks, Mike. I don't know if it'll do any good, but I appreciate the effort on your part. See you in a few."

The two hung up the phones and Mike quickly made his way to his vehicle. He didn't have long to figure out what he wanted to say.

The drive to the Lopez residence was made on auto-pilot. Mike's mind was carefully calculating his plan of action. His truck lumbered up to the curb, not wanting to block Marco's burgundy sedan that was sitting in Ms. Lopez' driveway. He straightened his shirt collar, then stepped out of his truck and walked up onto the porch.

"Mister Mike!" The shout belied the small body that emitted the exclamation. Antonio rushed out the door, leaping into Mike's awaiting arms. "I'm a real cowboy!"

"Yes, you are," Mike agreed, gently returning the child to the porch. "Lemme take a look at those new boots."

The child proudly stuck his foot out for Mike's approval. The man uttered a low whistle. "Mighty sharp, Ant."

"Mmhmm."

"And your Grandma did a fine job with the red handkerchief and chaps, and I believe Uncle Marco bought you those six-shooters, am I right?" Mike questioned, seeing his shiftmate walking outside to join them.

"Uh-huh," the child replied, feeling his uncle placing his cowboy hat on his dark-haired head. He turned and embraced Marco. "Meeko is the bestest uncle ever!"

Marco picked up the tike, hugging him tightly. "I love you too, Antonio."

Mike noted the sorrow on the other man's face and he knew why. Lately, Lexi had a way of bringing out the worst in people. Mike just hoped he could somehow convince her to join the rest of them at the Desotos' home.

Beverly and Maria joined them on the porch, laden with dishes for the upcoming gathering. Bri also joined them, giving Mike a polite smile. The group exchanged pleasantries with the engineer as each one walked past him. Bri was the last to make her way to Marco's car.

"Good luck," she sighed, giving Mike a sad shake of her head. She wanted to tell him the truth, tell someone of Lexi's plans, but she found herself in a precarious situation. Who would believe her? Lexi would simply deny it. She had to think of something, find some way to stop her friend from making the biggest mistake of her life.

"Yea… thanks," he muttered, then headed inside for what he hoped would be a productive conversation.

E!

The group of four men, escorting four young children down the street on the eastern side of the DeSotos' neighborhood caused the women left behind to giggle. The cowboy and the ladybug were holding hands, flanked on either side by Marco and Chet. Roy walked slightly behind Christopher, whose red outfit made him difficult to lose in a crowd. Then there was Johnny, lagging behind with a blonde-haired, blue-eyed Isis on his shoulders.

"I have to fly, Uncle Johnny," the precocious child explained.

"But you can walk up to the doors of the houses, right?"

"No way; you have to fly me up there," she announced.

The other men in the group snickered, each one picturing John Gage waltzing up to the doors like an overgrown kid.

"But Jen-"

"Uncle Johnny, you're my date… 'member?"

"Yea, Uncle Johnny," Chet snickered, knowing he was NOT going to let his nemesis live this down. "You promised," he continued in his best little girl whiney voice.

"The Phantom better not hear about this," Johnny countered, his own crooked grin shining through. Thankfully, he and Jennifer were ahead of the small group, so Chet couldn't see him. He already had his prank set up and he couldn't wait to finish Trick-or-Treating, so they could get back to the DeSotos' deck for the fireworks that were sure to come.

E!

"Come on in Hank, Rebecca," Joanne said, opening the door to the couple. She was delighted to see that their daughters were also joining them, even though she knew that the girls would probably much rather have spent Halloween with their peers. "Where did you hide your car?"

"Well," Hank chuckled. "We brought Becca's Edsel and found an empty spot just down the street. Johnny probably won't remember what it looks like, so I think we're safe."

"Oh, how clever," Joanne remarked, seeing Mike's pick-up truck passing by and turning west at the end of the block. She knitted her eyebrows together, thinking she might have seen Lexi sitting in the passenger's seat. Deciding not to say anything to Maria and Beverly, she left the front door open for him, then returned to the deck to continue with the preparations.

A yellow cab pulled to a stop outside the DeSotos' home and two occupants emerged. The couple walked up the sidewalk and knocked on the open door.

"Anybody home?"

"Dr. Brackett?" Bri responded, walking around the corner of the kitchen. "Miss McCall… good to see you both."

"We brought some adult beverages," the good doctor proclaimed, holding up a bag with three bottles in it. "May I put them in the refrigerator for later?"

"Right this way," Bri said, gesturing with her arm. She smiled warmly at Dixie. "Everyone is on the deck. I'm the, official greeter and candy distributor," she laughed. Truthfully, she was watching for Mike and hoping that Lexi might be with him.

A couple of minutes later, she saw both of them walking up the sidewalk. She released an audible sigh. Obviously, Mike still had a way of reaching Lexi that no one else had. Could he possibly convince her not to do what she was planning to do? Should she confide what she knew with Mike? That was something she would have to think about.

"Mike, Lex," she said warmly. "Glad you're both here. Everyone's out on the deck."

Lexi pushed on ahead, not acknowledging Bri. She opened the door to the deck and stepped through, dreading the next few hours, but grateful to have made a deal to help her reach her ultimate goal.

Back inside, Bri turned to Mike. "How'd you do it?" she asked, knowing he would understand what she was asking.

Mike briefly pressed his lips together. "You don't wanna know," he grumbled, then walked towards the door. He didn't want to tell anyone what he had to do in order to get Lexi here, but at least Antonio would have his mother with him on this special night.

E!

On the deck, the assembled group quickly put up the decorations and signs for Johnny's party. There were personal 'thank you' notes stacked in a basket on a card table in the corner. The tablecloth hung to the floor of the deck, covering the box of red roses Caroline had brought from Bloomers. The red ribbon adorning the golden box had a small box tied to it – the box containing the engagement ring Johnny had purchased, and subsequently left at the DeSotos' for safekeeping.

Beside the table, Roy had positioned a red ice chest. He had told Joanne not to open it as it contained something Johnny didn't want anyone to see. Assuming that it was beer to be consumed by Johnny and Roy after everyone left and the kids had gone to bed, she merely shook her head. She stifled a giggle. "Johnny will be shocked when he realizes that there won't be time for beer drinking later tonight," she mumbled to herself. Unless… No, Lily would say yes, she had to say yes. That would be the perfect ending to the perfect party.

By the grill, Mike and Hank finished up the burgers and hotdogs, removing them onto the serving plates. The ladies brought out the sliced veggies, and buns. Dr. Brackett followed them carrying a tray of condiments. He returned for the buckets of ice, followed by Bri and Dixie who carried pitchers of lemonade and water.

Once everything was in its place, the assembled group looked around.

"Okay," Joanne began, trying to ensure that everything was perfect. "Has everyone put their notes in the basket for Johnny?"

A chorus of agreements filtered through the crowd. Suddenly a new voice rose above the small talk of the group.

"Hello?" A dark familiar face peeked around the corner of the deck, smiling at the group.

"Ron Crockett, nice to see you again," Joanne announced, ever the perfect hostess.

The detective lifted a few bags of chips. "I hope I'm not too late."

"Not at all," Joanne replied, gratefully accepting the donation. He looked around at the gathered group, nodding his greetings to everyone.

One set of eyes refused to look at him, and he thought he knew why. Not one to allow her to get away with it, he forced her to speak. "Nice to see you again, Lexi."

"Likewise," was all she uttered.

Ron hoped he would have a chance to ask her about her Sunday visit with Ricardo, under her old street name of Alexandria LaRue, then he thought better of it. This was not the place to confront her – not in front of her family. He'd have to think of another way.

Suddenly, a streak of red came bolting through the house and out onto the deck. "We're back," Chris announced, out of breath but proud to have accomplished the task he had been given. He had run ahead of the others, in a display that had the rest of the group of Trick-or-Treaters fearing that his backside would be sore once Roy caught up with him, but the DeSotos knew the truth. Chris had been assigned the task to get home first to announce Johnny's arrival.

"Good job, son," Joanne announced, laying a proud hand on his shoulder. "Okay, is everyone ready?"

Inside the residence, Johnny reached up to remove his reluctant passenger. "Time to dismount and stop flying, Isis."

"Aw, man," Jennifer whined, but couldn't hide her grin. She knew what was awaiting them. "Hold my hand, Uncle Johnny?"

"How long is this date gonna last?"

The little girl looked up at him and giggled. "Until we share a hamburger," she said, grasping his hand and urging him toward the deck door. "You gotta have a burger if you go on a date," she snickered.

Roy, Marco, and Chet along with Antonio and Corrie had already walked out ahead of them. Finally, Jennifer led Johnny out onto the deck and felt him nearly jerk her back inside when the shouts began.

"SURPRISE!"

Johnny's mouth hung agape, his ability to speak momentarily forgotten. "Wha-um." Instinctively, he turned to look behind him, wondering for whom the surprise had been shouted. His face turned bright red when he realized he was the recipient of the surprise party.

"C'mon, Uncle Johnny. It's your party!" Jennifer called, pulling on his hand.

"Ma-MY party?" he questioned, splaying his hand across his chest as he was led forward by his surrogate niece.

Mike looked over at Lexi, realizing that she wasn't going to say anything by way of announcing the purpose of the party. He cleared his throat, prepared to explain when Hank took over.

"John… over the past year, you have been instrumental in saving so many lives… and I'm not talking about just the rescues on shift." He went on to relive his downward spiral and praised Johnny for his part in bringing the fire captain back around to his old self.

One by one, each man in the crew spoke up, giving Johnny accolades for all he had done to help them. Johnny stood, completely stunned, as he listened to everyone thanked him. He fought back his emotions as he listened, feeling his throat become scratchy as a lump formed there. He was extremely uncomfortable, not at all accustomed to hearing such heartfelt thanks from his shiftmates. The only time he could recall any sentiment like it was when he Roy and Chet had gone fishing and happened upon a bad wreck in an isolated area. Chet had told the injured young mother that he and Roy were the best. That was definitely a memory he would hold onto forever. Then there was the worried look on Chet's face when he had been bitten by the rattlesnake and nearly died. But for the life of him, he never remembered any of the other guys giving him such heartfelt praise. They were a team – the entire crew – not just the paramedics and certainly not just Johnny alone. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep the moisture at bay. He had no words – something that he rarely experienced.

"I… I don't know what to s-say," he stammered.

Dr. Brackett felt the need to interject a bit of humor into the emotional experience. "Guess there's a first time for everything," he laughed, holding up a cup of lemonade in a mock toast.

The round of laughter nearly drowned out the sound of a horn beeping along the street.

Roy picked up on the cue. "Excuse me. Sounds like I need to hand out a little more candy." He headed inside, giving Joanne a knowing glance.

"Johnny, come over here and fill up your plate. You're the guest of honor," Joanne said, reaching for a paper plate. She skillfully managed to keep Johnny's back towards the door of the house. Afterall, she wanted him to be shocked when the other guests of honor walked in.

Inside his home, Roy welcomed the Campbell ladies along with Samford Bennett. "You folks are right on time."

Lily and Iris walked into the home, exhausted, but also excited about Lily getting to see Johnny again – and knowing how surprised Johnny was going to be.

"Does he have any idea?" Lily questioned.

"None," Roy answered, a smile lighting up his face. He knew that Lily had quite a surprise waiting for her, too.

Her smile chased away the signs of weariness from the long trip.

"Then let's go see him," Iris said, heading for the door.

"Thank you, Sam. This is working out so perfectly," Roy said, clapping the younger man along the back of his neck.

"Glad to have been able to help," the arson investigator commented. "Is, uh…"

"She's here," Roy stated, knowingly.

Sam blushed. "Very well then…"

Roy stepped ahead of the ladies. "Let me go first and tell Johnny that Sam's here." He looked over at Iris and Lily. "Then the two of you should walk out behind him. Got it?" He waited for the affirmative nods, then opened the door to the deck.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Lexi watched the group mingling around Johnny and felt sadness overwhelming her. Everyone else seemed to have the perfect life. Sure, some of them had gone through difficulties, but they had all found a way to overcome them. She felt as if she were the only one present who was facing insurmountable odds. She was in a position of choosing the lesser of two evils – neither option was one she wanted to choose. Her life would soon be over, one way or another.

Realizing that everyone was preoccupied, her nefarious plan resurfaced. She stepped over to Joanne and whispered into her ear.

"Joanne, mind if I use your bathroom?"

Before Joanne could answer, everyone looked towards the sliding glass door as Roy's voice called out.

"Look who stopped by," the senior medic said, ushering Samford Bennett onto the deck.

Johnny waved his free hand in greeting while folding his lanky frame into a seated position at one of the picnic tables, then caught a glimpse of a couple of ladies behind the arson investigator. Before he was fully seated, he realized that Lily Campbell was standing in his presence.

Chet, who had been hovering near the ice chest where Johnny said he had been icing down the beer, turned in the direction of Roy's voice. "Hey, Sam," he said, jovially. "How 'bout a cold one?"

The Irishman opened the ice chest, cursing and stumbling backwards until he fell on his backside with green goop dripping from his face and hair. His muffled expletive was lost amid the high-pitched screams of Corrie and Jennifer which sent adults scrambling across the deck to the place where the red ice chest had been opened.

"Ppfffttt, GAGE!" Chet fumed.

Standing erect in the ice chest was a green blow-up doll resembling what most cartoonist often depicted as a Martian; a hand-written sign was taped to his chest indicating he was from Area 51. Attached to the lid of the ice chest, above the head of the big-eyed doll, was a spring-loaded device that, when tripped by the opening of the ice chest, had sent green goop flying right into Chet's face.

"Wow, that worked great, Uncle Johnny!" Chris cheered, giving away the trickster – not that anyone had any doubts as to his identity.

Thankfully, Jennifer's shrieks morphed quickly into giggles when she saw Chet's face.

The pranked lineman wiped the goo away from his eyes, slinging it over the edge of the deck, trying to get into an upright position while looking for Corrie. The little girl was clinging to her mother with both arms and both legs wrapped tightly around Caroline's torso – her initials cries of terror shifting into spurts of laughter. It was obvious that she thought her future stepfather looked funny in his current condition, but she wasn't quite ready to give up the safety of her mother's arms.

Chet's face reddened even more as he glared at his pigeon. "You've been doin' this to me for weeks now!" He pointed his finger at the red-faced paramedic. "You're gonna pay for this, Pal."

Johnny's wide eyes darted back and forth from an angry Chet, over to the sniveling little girl whose mother was giving Johnny evil looks, then back over to the place where a dark-haired beauty stood before him. His mouth was agape from the combination of shock, laughter, and the most wonderful surprise of his life.

His legs felt weak, and in his rush to get to Lily, his feet became entangled sending him sprawling onto the deck, landing with a thud on his back. "Oomph...Argh!"

Roy, seeing that his own daughter had settled down, stood by while waiting for Johnny's brain to kick into gear. When the younger man continued to stare in awe, while the others began welcoming Iris and Lily, Roy quickly reached beneath the card table, retrieving the golden box with the red bow. He offered Johnny a hand up, then pushed the flower box toward the younger man's hands. "Johnny, why don't you take these and do what you'd planned on doing Sunday."

Johnny looked at his friend, then down at the shiny gold box of flowers. He recognized the velvet box tied to the flowers by a white ribbon, and felt a lump forming in his throat. He looked over at Lily who was standing only a few steps away from him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears and a smile on her face.

"Duh, uh," the dark-haired paramedic couldn't decide what to do first. Realizing he hadn't even reached for her yet, he embraced her tightly, ignoring the proffered box.

Roy snickered, shaking his head as he continued to hold the flowers, feeling a hint of discomfort as he was holding flowers and jewelry for another woman his wife looked on with a knowing look on her face.

Johnny kissed Lily's cheek then pulled her head to his chest, running his hand down the length of her hair. He inhaled her scent, then pulled away to look into her beautiful eyes. "I…, um… I… When did you… How'd you…"

"I wanted to surprise you," Lily announced. "Sam picked us up from the airport."

With one hand, Roy nudged the box between the two lovebirds. With his other hand, he pressed on Johnny's shoulder, not-so-subtly, reminding him that he needed to assume the position of a suitor seeking the hand of a lovely lady.

"Oh… um…" He looked at the flowers and the tiny velvet box he was holding, slowly dropping to one knee on the DeSotos' deck. He propped the flower box on his raised knee, then retrieved the ring from the tiny box and reached for Lily's left hand. Everything he had planned to say suddenly disappeared from his mind. Instead of reciting what he had rehearsed, he simply allowed his heart to speak. "L-Lily… I've loved you since the day we met. Will you… marry me?"

Words escaped her. Lily nodded her agreement, completely in shock by the turn of events. She thought she was going to surprise Johnny by her presence – something she had obviously done; but instead, he had stunned her with a marriage proposal. Suddenly, she found herself swept up in the arms of the man she loved, not caring that his shirt was soaked with lemonade. Their lips met in a deep kiss. His hand reached up to the back of her head, pulling her tighter to him, his fingers carding through her dark hair. Their lips parted, and the kiss deepened.

Chet allowed a slight smile to escape from beneath his bushy mustache. Corrie was calming down and so was his anger at his friend. "Give her some air, Gage!" the Irishman called out, rounds of laughter following.

The kiss broke and their foreheads met, both of them smiling. Johnny's thumbs brushed her creamy tear-dampened face. "You… you said yes, right?" he asked, hoping his display of affection hadn't been wrong.

"Yes," she repeated, her voice merely a whisper. "But… how'd you know?" she asked, mesmerized.

Johnny laughed, hugging her tightly once more. He knew she was wondering how he had pulled off the proposal when he didn't even know she was going to be at the Halloween gathering. "Long, long story, babe," he chuckled. "Roy and Joanne will have to tell you… I don't even know where to begin."

Jennifer giggled, pulling on his hand to get his attention. "And me and Chris helped out too, 'cause we didn't want you to leave too early."

"What?" the dark-haired man questioned, giving Roy a quirked eyebrow. "Is that why you insisted on sharing a burger with me?"

"Uh-huh."

Johnny merely shook his head in disbelief. He had been planning on leaving as soon as they had made the rounds through the neighborhood, but Jennifer had seemed to attach herself to him, and would not have let him leave without finishing their so-called date. He looked at the group gathered around him, smiling faces all focused on the newly engaged couple. Even though he hadn't given her the most romantic proposal, it had certainly been a memorable one. 'Well done, partner,' he mused.

Hugs and handshakes were passed around among those who had gathered. Most of the ladies were circling Lily, all eyes looking at her left hand and the ring that now sparkled there. The men were slapping Johnny on the back and shaking his hand. Of course, Chet had to announce that Johnny screwed up his proposal even more than he had with Caroline. More laughter followed including the children as they, too, joined in with the merriment.

Chet grabbed a napkin, trying to wipe the disgusting mess off his shirt and face. "What is this sh.. uh, stuff?"

Johnny ran a finger beneath his nose, trying to hide his laughter. "Ah, ah-haha… I found it at the airport on my way back from Alabama. It's this new stuff called Slime."

Immediately, Chris' eyes lit up. "Dad, can I have-"

"NO!" Roy said sternly. Dealing with it at work had been bad enough; he did not want to see any of it around his house. He also didn't want his son to be tempted to torture Jennifer the way Johnny had been torturing Chet lately. Not to mention what Joanne would do to him if some of that stuff ended up in their shag carpet.

"Aww, man," the disappointed child mumbled, his shoulders slumping.

Johnny, feeling a little sorry for the mess Chet was in, decided to give him a bit of assistance. "Look, I have a few shirts in the guest room. Feel free to use one for the rest of the night," he offered to the slime-coated Irishman.

Chet pulled globs of slime from his curly hair. "Roy… Mind if I take a quick shower?" A part of him wanted to congratulate Johnny on a well-played prank, but another part was already plotting the Phantom's revenge.

"Down the hall, first door on the left. Guest room is across the hall," Roy instructed.

The reference to the bathroom jolted Joanne's memory. "Oh, Lexi, feel free to use the master bath in our bedroom upstairs," she said softly to her young guest. "Looks like my guest bath may be occupied for a while," she snickered.

"Thanks," Lexi replied. "I'll be right back."

As the young woman entered the DeSoto residence, she scurried up the stairs, grateful for being given easy access to what she was really after. The night was working out so much better than she had ever imagined.

Back on the deck, the group began loading up their plates with burgers, hotdogs, and chips. The kids were laughing, and the adults were chatting away about the events of the night. Sam managed to find a vacant seat near Bri. He smiled to himself and hurried over before someone else beat him to it.

"Is this seat taken?"

Bri felt her cheeks grow warm. "No, please sit down."

Sam looked around, noticing that Lexi seemed to have disappeared. "I thought maybe you were saving it for Lexi."

Bri, her mouth full of chips, held her napkin up so as not to offend him when she answered. "No… I don't know where she went." She looked around, growing suspicious. Had Bri decided to hitch-hike home? She looked around for Mike, hoping that if Lexi had decided to leave that maybe he had agreed to drive her home. He was standing near the deck railing, talking to Hank. She managed to catch his attention and gave him a questioning look. He mouthed the word 'bathroom' to her. She nodded her understanding, then returned her attention to the handsome man sitting beside her.

"I didn't know you were coming."

Sam gulped, his shyness seemed to grip his throat. "Um… Do you want me to leave?" Had he mistaken her earlier smile? Had the empty chair really been meant for someone else, after all?

"No, silly. I'm… I'm glad you came," she said, raising her hamburger to her mouth, hoping she didn't make a mess in front of him.

The two made small talk, falling into a comfortable conversation. It felt right to them both, although neither one was willing to admit it to the other. By the time they finished their food, Dixie walked by heading towards the door to the kitchen.

"Are you folks ready for some champagne to celebrate Johnny and Lily?"

They nodded their agreement. This was turning out to be a very good night.

Inside the house, Chet stepped out of the bathroom just as Lexi was walking down the stairs. He had dressed in such a hurry, donning Johnny's red tee shirt that he had found hanging in the closet of the guest room, that he forgot to complete one very important task. She took one look at him and giggled nervously.

"Um… don't let your horse get out of the barn," she chuckled, her dark brown eyes quickly scanning from his crotch back up to his quickly reddening face.

"Argh," Chet groaned, turning his back to her to zip up his jeans. "Sorry."

Lexi stepped off the lowest step, feeling a shift in the hidden contents of her bra.

Dixie, who had made her way inside the kitchen to retrieve the bottles of champagne that she and Kel had brought and placed in the refrigerator earlier, gasped when she stepped out of the kitchen, nearly bumping into Lexi who was adjusting her blouse, while behind her, Chet pulled up the zipper of his jeans. This sent Dixie's heart lurching into her throat.

"Oh, pardon me, Miss McCall," Lexi said a little too loudly.

"Hey, Dix… Need some help?" Chet offered, completely unaware of what the nurse had seen.

Dixie eyed them both suspiciously; had she interrupted something? Chet wouldn't… Dixie shook the thought from her head. No, Chet was a prankster, but he wasn't a womanizer. Besides, he was very much in love with Caroline Marks. But Lexi's behavior had been odd recently. She filed the information away in the back of her mind. Now wasn't the time to address what she had seen.

"That would be nice of you, Chet; if you don't mind," she said in her smoky voice.

"Ah, no… no, I don't mind at all," The Irishman said with a grin. "I'm always happy to help a lady out." He accepted the two bottles from her and headed for the door.

"I'll bet," Dixie responded softly, quirking an eyebrow in Lexi's direction. "Is… Everything okay, Lexi?"

"Oh," she responded, nervousness evident in her voice. "Yes, just needed to use the bathroom and," she jerked her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the stairs. "Well, Chet was occupying the guest bathroom… so… I had to go upstairs."

"Hmm, I see," Dixie replied, grasping the third bottle of champagne and heading for the deck. She wasn't ready to so easily dismiss the odd behavior. She had been a witness to too many clandestine rendezvous between married doctors and her newly hired nurses who seemed more intent on snagging a healthy bank account than a career. Too often, both parties ended up being hurt and ultimately dismissed from their jobs. She had developed a keen eye for guilty behavior patterns and Lexi was certainly guilty of something.

Lexi scurried towards the door, feeling the heat of her predicament coloring her neck. She had thought for a moment that she had been caught red-handed, but now it seemed that she had gotten away with it. She just had to take a deep breath and relax. Maybe a glass of celebratory champagne would help. Dixie didn't seem to be suspicious and the rest of the guests were too busy celebrating outside to have heard or seen anything. Things seemed to be falling into place quite nicely. She would soon need to have a heart-to-heart talk with her brother and future sister-in-law. Then, as much as she hated to do it, she needed to string Mike along for just a few more weeks. He was a nice guy, and she hated to deceive him, but he was definitely her best hope for reaching her ultimate goal. His heart might be collateral damage, but he was a handsome fellow with a lot to offer a nice girl. He would recover, of that she was certain.

E!

By the time the children began to grow fatigued, the younger adults seemed to just be getting started with their fun. Marco and Chet decided it was time to take Antonio and Corrie home and put them to bed. Mrs. Lopez, Beverly, and Caroline began packing up their belongings.

Bri turned to the man who had occupied most of her time for the night. "Well, looks like my ride is leaving. Guess I'd better go."

"Um," Sam began scratching his arms, a habit that had developed early in his adolescence when his nerves were being tested. He hoped she wasn't noticing. "I… I'm going that way. I can take you home… I mean, if you want to stay a little longer." He rubbed his nose, hoping he wasn't about to break out in hives.

Bri smiled, curling a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You mean, you don't mind?"

"No… I'd love to. I-I'm really enjoying t-talking with you."

Bri felt a blush creeping up her neck. "Me, too. Uh, let me go tell Mama Lopez."

Sam watched her walk away, silently chastising his body for the display of nervousness. He knew what she had been, but he also felt a sense of what Bri could become. She had a tainted past, but a pure heart. He had always been a good judge of character, and he knew he was right about her. But, would she be interested in someone like him?

In only a moment, Bri came bouncing back to him, her excitement obvious. "Okay, it's all set."

Across the deck, Mike walked over to the place where Lexi was standing. "Are you ready to go or do you want to stay a little longer?"

Lexi's dark eyes looked up at him. She slipped her fingers into the back pockets of her jeans, feeling the folded bills he had secretly given her earlier. She needed to talk to him, to get her plan going. "Um… Can we go to your place for a little while? I-I'd really like to talk to you."

Mike tilted his head back, eyeing her suspiciously. His blue eyes looked at her face, searching for any signs of deception. When she quickly cut her eyes away, he grew weary.

"I'm sorry, Michael. I… I had no right to ask you that. I'm sure you have other plans," she said, turning away. She knew exactly how to play on the emotions of most men, Mike was no different.

"No, I don't… C'mon, we can go to my place for a little while and talk. I'll take you home later."

Lexi turned around, offering him a slight smile. "Thanks… I'll just go let Mama know I'll be home later."

E!

After most everyone had left the DeSotos' home, Johnny whispered into Lily's ear. "Come home with me?"

She smiled at him, warmly. "Um, we'll have to take Mom home first. Sam brought us, remember."

Iris, who had been walking up to the young couple, had seen her future son-in-law whispering into her daughter's ear. She had been in love once, and figured she knew what was happening. She walked up behind them, placing a hand on a shoulder of each of them.

"Well… You two lovebirds have a good time. Dr. Brackett and Dixie have asked me to split a cab with them, so I'm going to leave you two alone."

Johnny's crooked grin brightened up his face. "I promise, I'll take very good care of her, Iris."

"Mmmhmm," the older woman said, a knowing look on her face.

"Thanks for understanding, Mom. It's been so long since we've seen each other."

Iris hugged her daughter's neck. She knew that Lily had found happiness, something she had long feared might not happen. She loved Johnny like a son, not just a son-in-law, and she couldn't be happier for the two of them. "I love you both, and I'm so happy for you."

Half an hour later, the deck was cleaned up and the guests were leaving. Both DeSoto kids were preparing for bed, and Roy slipped his arm around his wife, whispering into her ear. "You haven't forgotten what you promised, have you?"

Joanne leaned into her husbands embrace. "Not a chance. You go ahead and get cleaned up. As soon as I get the kids tucked in bed, I'll join you."

Roy could almost feel his jeans tighten with anticipation. "Yes, ma'am."

He took the stairs two at a time, walking into their bedroom and flipping on the light switch. The lamp beside their bed was on. Being on a tight budget, they never left lights on in a room that wasn't being used. He thought back to when they had been in the bedroom getting ready for the night's festivities. It had been early, and even though they had turned on the overhead light in the bedroom, there had been no reason to use the lamp, he was sure of it. Deciding that bringing it up to Jo might sour the mood, he filed it away in the back of his mind and turned off the overhead light. The bedside lamp created better ambient lighting anyway. He stripped off his clothes, tossing them in the hamper and headed for the shower.

By the time Joanne completed their children's bedtime routine, she walked in the bedroom to find Roy under the covers in their bed, a broad smile crossing his face. "Well, well… ready, I see."

"Yes, ma'am. Patiently waiting," he grinned, twitching his feet in anticipation.

E!

Samford Bennett opened the car door for Bri, offering her his hand as she stepped out onto the curb in front of the Lopez residence. The drive home had been a pleasant one, cordial and comfortable. Before he walked her to the door, he turned to face her, pleased when she leaned her hips against his car. She seemed to be completely at peace in his presence; for that, he was grateful.

"Bri, I wanted to talk to you about something," he said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Oh?" she asked, her eyebrows knitting together. Was her wonderful night about to come to an abrupt end? She had thought things had gone well, but her insecurities were forever lurking in the shadows of her mind.

"Yea… I, um, I have a… well, a sort o' business proposition for you."

Bri's mouth hung open slightly. Was he about to proposition her? Were his hands in his pockets because he was about to pull out a few bills in exchange for a quick service? How could she have been so wrong about him? Her eyes began to cloud over, her defensive wall rose, and she pressed her lips into a thin line.

"Excuse me," she said curtly, crossing her arms over her chest and walking quickly past him towards the house. She wouldn't let him see her cry. No man would ever see her cry again.

Sam's eyes widened with the horror of what he had inadvertently done. He spun around, reaching out and lightly gripping her upper arm. He had to correct his mistake.

"Bri… No… that's not – UMPH!" The arson investigator doubled over from the unexpected punch in the stomach. "Owe."

Bri stood trembling, stunned by her own swift reaction to his words. "How… could you?" she asked, her voice thick with emotions. The lump in her throat was nearly blocking her breathing and her heart was pounding inside her chest. She had let her guard down… but resolved to never let it happen again.

"That… ugh," he groaned, rubbing his aching stomach muscles. "That was NOT what I was talking about, Bri. I," he shook his head, glancing down at the ground. How could he have been so careless with his words? He inhaled deeply, choosing his words with extreme caution. "Brittany," he began, hoping the use of her full name would convey his sincerity. "I am so sorry for how that came across to you. Please… forgive me for the misunderstanding. It was my fault, and I am truly sorry for upsetting you."

Bri stared at the handsome man with the mussed up blonde hair standing in front of her. His eyes were boring holes through the protective fortress she had just built between them. She felt her arms begin to tremble, her adrenaline wearing off.

"Are you cold?" he asked, seeing her shiver. "I have a jacket in my car," he said, reaching back for the door handle.

"No…" Bri said, her voice barely above a whisper. "No… I'm fine… I just… I thought you were…," she stopped looking at his eyes, preferring to stare into the darkness over his shoulder instead. She didn't want to see the look of pity she assumed would be displayed in his eyes.

"I know what you thought… I mean, it wasn't what I meant, but… Damn," he cursed, uncharacteristically. He was blowing the entire night with his own social ineptness. "But I understand why you thought that I was… If you only knew me better, you'd know that… I would never… ever… do anything like that… certainly not to you."

Bri hesitated. She wanted to believe him, but could she?

"Why not?" she quizzed, wanting to keep the conversation going a little longer.

Seeing his opening, Sam took a tentative step closer to her, but not enough to make her feel threatened again. "Because a lady doesn't deserve to be treated like that… And because… because… I don't treat… it, ahem," he coughed into his fist, feeling heat rising up his neck. "Um, s-sex, casually… that's not how it's supposed to be, you know?"

Her brown eyes looked up at him, seeing how uncomfortable he really was feeling at the moment. "Honestly? No… I really don't know anything other than, um, paid sex… Or worse…" She allowed her eyes to drift again. "I don't know anything about how it's supposed to be," she clarified. "I was thirteen when…" She turned her back to him. She wasn't ready to tell anyone that story, certainly not Sam… But she felt so comfortable talking to him. Why?

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, needing to get the conversation back on track. "So, anyway… I know that it'll be awhile before you can go back to work for Amy, and… Well, see… My mother is getting older and I'm an only child. She's… basically deaf and…" He paused when he saw her turn back around to face him. "Well, I was wondering if you'd consider moving in with us and sitting with her while I'm at work?"

Bri tilted her head sideways. Being a caregiver had never crossed her mind, but the thought was intriguing.

"I… I live with her in this big house… You'd have your own bedroom and… there'd only be some light housekeeping and meal preparation for her… keep her company when I'm working late… that kind of thing."

Bri lifted her chin. Was he really asking her to move into his house? "You mean… like a live-in housekeeper?"

"Well, yea, kind of. I couldn't pay you a large salary, but you wouldn't have to pay for any living expenses. My father's pension covers practically all of our living expenses. So, I'm prepared to offer you room and board and… um, $10 a day. It isn't much, but… If it works out, then maybe I could offer you a raise in six months or so."

"Have you talked to your mother about me?"

"Yes, she's in agreement that she needs someone with her. I think she'd feel safer and-"

"No, Sam… I mean, about ME… Have you told her you were going to ask a 'lady of the night,'" she said, rolling her eyes, "to sit with her?"

Samford closed the distance between them. Slowly, he reached out, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. When she didn't look at him, he used the crook of his finger to lift her chin upwards until she was looking at him. "No… Because I'm not asking a prostitute to see about my mother. I'm asking a wonderful young woman, with a strength of character and a pure heart like none other I've ever met, to take care of the most important woman in my life… Most important, for now," he added, allowing a hint of a smile to brighten his face.

Bri felt her eyes welling up with tears. A warm feeling like none she had ever felt before, filled her chest. A part of her wanted to wrap her arms around his shoulders and rest her head against his chest. Another part wanted to rise up on her tiptoes and kiss him. But she didn't. She took a step back from him, feeling as if the air around her was too thick to breathe.

"I'll… um, I'll think about it, okay?"

Samford, unable to hide his disappointment, repocketed his hands, toeing the grass beneath his feet. "Yea… Okay, um, please do that. You can… Um, let me know… when you decide, alright?"

Bri nodded her agreement. "Thank you for the ride home," she said, stepping backwards.

Samford raised his hand as he turned to walk to the driver's side of his car. "You're welcome. I had a good time," he replied, wanting to add 'with you,' but thinking better of it. He had made a big enough mess of things tonight.

Bri headed for the front door of the Lopez home, chastising herself with each step. She heard the car door slam shut, but he didn't crank up the car. She knew he was waiting to make sure she was safely inside before he left. He was a good man, a solid citizen… and she was sure that he was only interested in her as a sitter for his mother, nothing more. She swiped at an errant tear. There was no way she could live in the same house with him. It would cause her heart to break when he brought over a girlfriend or… if the job lasted long enough… his wife. No, she had to protect herself at all costs. She would have to tell him she couldn't accept the job.

E!

"Antonio sure seemed to have a good time tonight," Mike commented, hoping for a response from Lexi who sat beside him as he drove towards his apartment.

Mike had insisted that she speak with her mother privately about taking Antonio home and getting him ready for bed, so that she and Mike could discuss whatever she had on her mind. While Lexi had been talking to her mother, Mike had explained things to Marco. Neither man knew what to make of her unusual request. Now they were sitting in his pick-up truck, him in the driver's seat and her pressed against the passenger's door. He wondered briefly if she might try to jump out when he stopped at a traffic light. Her behavior had been very concerning over the past few weeks.

Lexi stared at the taillights on the vehicle in front of them, planning her next move. Only when she heard her name called loudly did she react.

"Alexia?"

"Oh, I'm sorry… Did you say something?"

Mike merely shook his head and turned on his blinker to make the turn into his apartment complex. His curiosity was piqued, but there was a sudden sense of dread weighing heavily in his chest. He didn't respond until he had parked in his usual parking place and turned off his vehicle. He turned to look at her, trying to read her face in the faint glow of the street light. That was when he realized that the only way he was going to find out what was on her mind was to have the conversation she seemed to want so desperately.

"C'mon, let's go inside," he said, opening his door.

Lexi didn't wait for him to open her door for her. Afterall, they were no longer a couple, so why should she expect him to treat her with that kind of respect?

They walked up the stairs in silence. Mike opened the door, flipped on the lights, and dropped his keys in the bowl in the foyer. He thought about the money that had gone missing the last time Lexi had been in his apartment and he felt his resentment begin to build.

"You want something to drink?" he asked, walking into his kitchen and grabbing a beer out of his refrigerator.

"Water would be nice," she said softly. She could tell that he really didn't want to be around her. She waited for him to bring their drinks into his living room before she said anything else.

Mike tossed a couple of coasters onto his coffee table, then set the drinks on them. He motioned for Lexi to have a seat on the sofa before he sat in his recliner beside her. He wasn't comfortable sitting near her at this point. He needed to see her face because he had a few things he needed to say to her.

"Thanks," Lexi mumbled, reaching for the glass to wet her dry throat.

He gave her a moment to collect her thoughts but when she failed to start the conversation, he felt his patience begin to wane. "I won't do it, Lexi."

"Pardon?"

Mike propped one elbow on the arm of the chair and stared at her. His cerulean gaze pinning her to her seat. "Whatever you're trying to pull, I won't be a part of it."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Michael."

"Like hell you don't," he spat out. "You're leaving again and we both know it. The only question is why?"

Lexi was taken aback by his comment. Were her intentions that obvious to everyone? He was angry, but he was also very cold towards her. If only she could be honest with someone… but that was too risky. She looked at him wishing that she could trust him, but she trusted no one, not even her own family. She was the only one who could make things right again, even if that meant risking collateral damage along the way. She felt her eyes begin to sting and her throat became scratchy.

"I'm not leaving, Michael."

His only response was a soft snort of disbelief. He shifted his position in his chair. "So… we're here… I'm listening… talk."

There was a long pause before she found her words. "Michael… I wanted to apologize to you."

"For what? Wasting my time? Lying to me? Damaging my reputation?" He waited for his words to sink in for a moment. He watched as she ran her fingers over the Pinocchio tattoo on her wrist. "Stealing from me?"

Her eyes closed, and her chin lowered. She had hoped he hadn't missed the money she had taken the last time she was here. "I really am sorry about that. I was wrong. I'll… I'll pay you back."

"With what?" He asked sarcastically. "With the money I paid you to go to Johnny's party tonight?"

Lexi leaned forward, removing the folded bills from her back jeans pocket and tossing them onto the coffee table. "There."

Mike exhaled loudly. "That's not why you came here. Either tell me what you want to talk about… or I'm going to drive you home."

"I need your help, Michael," she blurted out, rushing to say it before she lost her courage.

"Humph… Seems I'm about tapped out," he shot back.

"I don't blame you for being angry at me… but I really need some money… a lot actually… to get out of some trouble I'm in."

"I hate to break it to you, missy, but firemen don't make much money." He leaned forward, encroaching on her space until she looked up at him. "Besides, I wouldn't give it to you even if I had it."

"I'm not asking you to give it to me… I… I want to earn it," she said softly.

"Oh, yea… Lemme guess," he began, taking a long drink of his beer. He had been holding in his anger for a long time and now he was ready to let her have it. "You want me to let you come over after my next shift and provide me with a little company… for a nominal fee, of course… Or maybe, set you up with some of my male neighbors for a little door-to-door service?" He wanted to cringe at his own words, but he was finding it very difficult to control his tongue.

Lexi sat quiet and still on his sofa, allowing his rant to continue. It certainly wasn't the worst thing she had endured. But it was the truth in his words that hurt her the most. He was absolutely correct in everything he was saying.

When Mike finished his tirade, he leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair. His words had sliced through her heart and he regretted being so hateful to her. He saw her looking so small and defeated, and he wanted to kick himself in the pants. He was not known for having a loose tongue, but he had certainly let his get the better of him tonight. "Lex-"

"No… Let me say something, please."

"Okay."

"You're right… I don't have any job skills. I've never earned an honest dollar in my life. I've done things that I despise… but… I really need to earn some cash. I was hoping I could clean apartments or something… something honest and honorable. I wasn't talking about hooking anymore, Michael." She looked over at him, seeing the stunned expression on his face. "I'm never going back to that again."

Mike narrowed his eyes at her. He never knew when she was telling the truth or when she was lying, but something in her voice made him think she was telling the truth. He watched as she ran her fingers over the scars on her wrists, some were self-inflicted, others were not. "What kind of trouble are you in?"

"The kind that will cost me about $300 to get out of." She continued to stare at the Pinocchio tattoo, and an idea began to formulate in her mind. "I have a few bills I need to pay off – street bills. And then I have one major obstacle standing between me and total freedom."

Mike felt like he had been sucker-punched. He didn't know what kind of street bills she was talking about, but as he watched her run her fingers across the tattoo, he thought he understood what she meant. The Pinocchio tattoo was the last reminder of her enslavement. It was a mark she had not taken willingly, but one that she had been forced to endure. It was a mark that she was unable to completely hide. If she was determined to have the tattoo removed, then how could he refuse to help her? Was this mark of ownership the only thing that was keeping Antonio from having his mother back in his life permanently?

E!

Across town, Ricardo Gomez sat in his jail cell. He only had 45 more days until he would be released. A sneer crossed his face as he thought about the plan that was being leveraged on his behalf. His street name was G-man, referencing both his last name and the fictional character of Mr. Geppetto, and he marked all his girls with a Pinocchio tattoo. He was in total control of their every move… even when he was incarcerated. "When the G-man owns you," he whispered to himself. "He owns you mind, body, and soul… Forever. And if any one o' my bitches forgets that… She's gonna pay dearly for her mistake."


	17. Chapter 17

Warning: Extreme language

Chapter 17

Mike pulled his pick-up into the driveway of the Lopez residence. It was nearly 2:00 am and he had not intended to keep Lexi out this late. However, their conversation had gone much better than he had initially thought. Although she had not expounded on why she needed so much money to resolve her current crisis, he had agreed to assist her in her efforts to earn the money she needed in a legitimate manner. He shifted into park and stepped out to open her door for her.

"I'll talk to my landlady tomorrow," he said, closing the truck door behind her. "About you cleaning apartments."

"It is tomorrow," she said, wryly.

He snorted at her remark, appreciating what seemed to be the return of the Lexi he remembered. "Yea, I guess it is."

They walked in silence to the front door. He waited for her to unlock it and walk inside, unsure of how to end the night. A kiss seemed too intimate but a simple 'good night' didn't seem appropriate either.

Lexi walked through the open doorway, turning around and looking into his piercing blue eyes. "Thank you, Michael. I know I don't deserve another chance, but… I promise you… I'm not going back out there," she said, nodding her head in the direction of the street. She knew he would understand her comment.

"I'm glad," he said, pausing. "And I'm happy to help you out."

She offered him a slight smile, followed by a stifled yawn.

"Get some sleep, Lexi. I'll call later with an answer for you," he said, taking a step back as she closed the door.

He walked back to his truck, pondering all that had happened over the last few hours. How had he gone from paying her a bribe to attend Johnny's party to agreeing to help her find steady work? Lexi had a way of getting what she wanted from him, and he shook his head. It was not like him to do anything without thoroughly thinking it through. So why had he so readily agreed? He knew the truth was that he cared deeply for Lexi, maybe even still loved her. And he couldn't deny how much he loved little Antonio. He slapped the steering wheel with his hand, mumbling a curse before cranking up his truck and heading home with a niggling voice whispering in the back of his mind. She still wasn't telling him the entire truth. So, what was she hiding?

E!

Lexi quietly walked up the stairs to her bedroom, slowly closing the door behind her. She hadn't intended to get home so late and did not want to awaken the rest of the house. She began to undress to prepare for bed, reaching up to remove the items she had hidden away inside her bra. She clutched them in her hand, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She had done so many things she was ashamed of in her life, why did this one hurt so much? The answer was obvious. She had violated the trust of a family friend. She opened the top drawer of her desk, removing the trinket box containing her heirloom rosary. She gently added three more items to the box, then closed it and returned it to the drawer. Maybe, just maybe, she would be able to earn enough money from housekeeping over the next few weeks and wouldn't need to sell her ill-gotten gains.

She removed the folded bills from her back pocket, slipping them inside her diary. She felt guilty for accepting Mike's bribe for agreeing to go to the party. She never would have done it had she not been so desperate for the money. Time was running out for her and her plan had to come together perfectly, or… She refused to think of the 'or else' scenario that was always at the forefront of her thoughts. Soon, she thought to herself, soon this will all be over.

She changed into her nightgown, but before she climbed into bed, she did something she hadn't done since she was a small child. Kneeling down beside her bed, she clasped her hands beneath her chin, closed her eyes, and prayed.

"Oh, Father God, if there is any other way to do what must be done, please show me. I don't want to continue hurting the people who truly love me. So please, God, please… make a way… Amen."

E!

Across the hallway, Bri lay awake in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She had gone over all the reasons why she should tell Sam that she couldn't accept the job offer, but she had also gone over all the reasons why she should. She knew that her decision to decline the offer was made by her emotions. Now that she had thought about it, she knew she really didn't have many other options. She needed the money, and she knew that she couldn't stay with the Lopez' family indefinitely. Without an income, she couldn't pay the rent on the apartment she was subleasing from Beverly, but if she moved in with the Bennetts she wouldn't need an apartment. Like so many times in her life, she was going to have to set own desires aside and do what she had to do to survive. Maybe it would be best for her to accept the proffered job, no matter how much it hurt her when Sam brought his future girlfriend home to meet his mother. She was merely a domestic worker, nothing more… but it would still be the best job she had ever had.

She rolled over in bed, still feeling sore from the mishap at the Pourhouse, but realizing that she was certainly able to move forward in her life now. She snuggled into the sheets, pulling the blanket up beneath her chin. As she drifted into sleep, her subconscious mind carried her back into the presence of Samford Bennett, and how it would feel to wake up in the arms of a man as wonderful as the handsome arson investigator.

E!

Johnny snuggled closer to the warm body lying beside him, nestling his nose into her dark tresses, inhaling her scent; her soft snores indicative of her fatigue. He glanced down at her left hand, admiring the ring that he had placed there the night before. It glistened in the early morning light, sparkling against her mocha-colored skin.

While he had hoped to enjoy a night of intimacy with his beloved, she had been completely exhausted from her day of flying and the long night at the DeSotos' home. When she had yawned in the middle of a deep kiss, they had both fallen into bed laughing. There had been no passionate love-making, but there was both passion and love between them. He had provided her with a tee shirt and a pair of his boxer shorts for her to sleep in, and he had to admit she had never looked sexier.

Her head had barely hit the pillow before she rolled over onto her right side, allowing him to spoon her with his own taller body. There, feeling safe and secure in his arms, she had quickly fallen into a peaceful slumber. Johnny had lain awake, caressing her soft skin beneath the tee shirt, feeling her relaxing in his bed until her breathing became deep and even.

He had slept well, nestled against her. Now he was awake but did not want to disturb her slumber. She needed her rest. He loved her more than he had ever loved anyone else in his entire life. In fact, he loved her so much that his own body ached when they were apart. The weeks away from her had been difficult, but they had served to confirm what his heart had known since he was only a young teenage boy. She was truly his other half; she completed him… and he completed her.

Carefully, so as not to disturb her, he gently pulled her closer to him, quietly whispering into her ear.

"I love you so much, Baby."

"I love you, too, Thorn," she giggled, a bright smile adorning her face.

She twisted in his arms, feeling him rolling onto his back. She lay her head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Silently, she ran her fingers along his hairless chest, knowing that her light strokes were stoking the flames of desire in the man she loved.

"I thought you were asleep," Johnny joked, kissing her forehead. His hand, resting on her hip, slowly slipped upwards, taking the tee shirt with it.

"I was… but now I'm rested… and hungry," she said with a knowing growl as she used her tongue to bath his taut nipple. She allowed her fingers to venture southward, feeling the tension in his body.

Johnny felt as if his abdomen was on fire, his groin burning hotter than he had ever felt before. "Mmmm," he moaned as she continued her ministrations. "Hungry for… breakfast?"

"Nu-uh," she said, planting kisses along his bare chest.

"Oh, baby… I like how you think," he responded, shifting his position as he removed the tee shirt from over her head.

Half an hour later, he lay in bed, completely satiated. One arm was bent behind his head, a crooked grin on his face. "You know… I can't wait to wake up with you every morning," he said, running his fingers through her hair as she once again curled her body next to his, her head resting on his chest.

"Well… Nobody says we have to wait long," she replied, propping up on one elbow to look into his rich brown eyes. "All we need is a blood test and a marriage license. We can be married by next weekend," she announced with a twinkle in her eye.

Johnny allowed his hand to gently caress her naked back, removing his other hand from behind his head and using it to cup her cheek. He enjoyed the way she nestled her face into the curve of his hand. "No…"

"No?" Lily questioned, alarm evident in her voice. While they had not made love in a very long time, she did not think that he was so disappointed with her that he had suddenly changed his mind about his proposal of marriage. She knit her eyebrows together, feeling the backs of her eyes stinging.

"Shhh," he crooned, hoping to settle her anxiety. "I don't want to rush this, Lily. You deserve so much. I… I want our wedding day to be a big celebration with all our friends and family sharing the day with us. I…" He looked deeply into her eyes before continuing. "I don't want us to have any regrets. I want you to… I want us to… What I'm tryin' to say is…"

Lily couldn't stop the bubbling giggle that made her face light up with delight. "You're saying that you are a hopeless romantic, right?"

Johnny gave her a wistful smile, running his thumb across her plump lips. "Yea… I love you, and I want you to have your day as Princess Liliana Campbell."

"Princess Liliana Campbell Gage," she mumbled, kissing his thumb.

"I like the sound of that," he growled, rolling her onto her back before kissing her deeply. When the kiss finally broke, he looked down at her, her rich skin in stark contrast to the white pillow case on which her head lay. "God you're beautiful." He watched her blush, realizing that she never thought of herself as beautiful. "You're gonna be the most beautiful bride that ever walked down an aisle."

Lily adjusted her head in order to see him more clearly. "Hmmm, I was kind o' hopin' to get married outside… no aisle, ya know?"

"No aisle?"

Lily blew a stray tuft of hair that had fallen onto her nose. "Well… My Dad is gone, and… I don't really have anyone to… you know… walk me down the aisle," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"So, you wanna get married outside, huh?" He asked, a huge grin tugging the left corner of his mouth upwards.

"Yea… I don't know where, but… I've always loved being outside… I mean, I really wasn't unhappy living at the Holistic Unity Gardens… Other than the fact that they were all… well, nuts."

Johnny rolled his eyes, pushing the same strand of hair back behind her ear. He didn't need any reminders of that place. He had nearly died there. "Don't remind me, Lil."

"I know," she added. "I hated keeping all that from you, but… it's all in the past now." She leaned down, kissing him on his nose. "So… are you okay with getting married outdoors?"

"I love the idea of uniting our lives in Mother Nature… Hey," he said, his eyes growing wide. "You and I aren't just uniting our lives… We're uniting three different races and cultures. Wouldn't it be great if we could incorporate elements from all three into our wedding?"

Lily sat up, pulling the sheet around her torso. The thought of such a unique ceremony intrigued her. "Oh, Johnny… That's a wonderful idea!"

Johnny joined her in a sitting position on the edge of the bed. "I've always loved the way my father's people celebrate wedding ceremonies, but there are things that white people do that I like too."

Lily stared at the striped bedspread, obviously searching her memory. "With my mother being a florist, I've helped decorate for lots of weddin's, but… I really don't remember anything unique about weddin's for colored folk," she said, biting her lip.

Johnny smiled, realizing that the time she had spent in Alabama had left a definite mark on her accent and choice of words. "We both know someone who could help us with that… and she needs to know about our upcoming wedding, don't you think?"

Lily's eyes twinkled as she watched Johnny reach for the phone on his bedside table.

"She's up," Johnny quipped, handing her the phone.

Lily dialed the number, thankful that it was the weekend, so the charges would be reduced. "I'll be quick," she whispered.

"Take your time, babe," Johnny offered, holding up his hand with his palm out. He didn't want to rush her. He could faintly hear the sound of a telephone ringing on the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

"Grandma Kizzy, it's Lily," the younger woman said, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.

"Hey there, child. 'S e'rything a'right?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am. Mom and I made it back safely last night, but… I've got some news to share with you," she remarked, her cheeks turning pink as she realized she was sitting naked on Johnny's bed talking to her very traditional paternal grandmother.

"Is that so? Well, speak it, child. Don't keep this ol' woman waitin'," Kizzy snickered.

"Johnny and I are gettin' married!"

Johnny and Lily held their breath, anxious to hear Kizzy's response. The silence on the other end of the phone was alarming.

"Grandma?" Lily said, her voice sounding weak and tiny.

In Selma, Kizzy Campbell had lost her voice. Her eyes were growing misty as she thought about the wonderful young man she had cared so deeply for, for so many years. Now, Johnny was going to be joining her family. She sniffled, wiping her damp cheeks, realizing that she had to say something. "Oh, baby girl… I'm so 'xcited for y'all. This is jus'… 't's the bes' news I've heard in a long time."

"Are you happy, Grandma… Really happy?" Lily asked, relieved by the reaction she was getting.

"Sho 'nuff!" Kizzy exclaimed. "But… Does this mean I'm gonna have to fly on a plane?"

Lily and Johnny chortled at the older woman's question. Lily, using her fingers to swipe away her tears of joy from beneath her eyes, smiled. "Yes, Grandma."

"Oh, Lord have mercy on my old fat soul… I ain't never had no intensions o' flyin' on no airplane, but baby girl, I'll do it for you. I wouldn't miss your weddin' day for nothin'."

"That means so much to me, Grandma, and… I have a question for you."

Lily went on to explain to Kizzy how she and Johnny wanted to incorporate traditions from the three cultures that they represented. She asked her grandmother what she could do to represent her paternal relatives in a wedding ceremony to unite the cultures. Suddenly, she pulled the phone away from her ear, cringing as Kizzy squealed with delight into the phone. "Oh, baby girl… You and Johnny jus' gonna hafta jump the broom!"

E!

With the A-shift back on duty at Station 51. Captain Stanley had completed roll call, assigned chores, and was sipping his coffee while working on the never-ending paper work piling up on his desk.

Mike was making a list of grocery items needed for the remainder of his shift as he had been given the task of feeding the crew for the next 24 hours. He jotted down a few notes on a scrap piece of paper and placed it on the kitchen table. He knew the paramedics would most likely be making a supply run to Rampart as the squad had been called out on multiple medical runs according to the C-shift report. They would be able to pick up the few grocery items he would need while they were out. It was much easier to maneuver the squad in a supermarket parking lot than the engine. He snickered at the thought of piling shopping bags in the hose bed of the larger vehicle.

"Somethin' funny?" Chet asked, returning to the kitchen for a warmer for his half-empty coffee cup.

"Not really," the quiet engineer replied.

The sneaky Irishman cast a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure no one else could hear what he was about to say. "Well, I've got something funny for ya," he offered, pouring the rest of the coffee into his cup. He returned the empty percolator to the back of the stove without even thinking about making another pot. He barely noticed when Mike rolled his eyes and began the process of making more.

The lineman leaned closer to the place where Mike stood scooping coffee from the canister. He used his fingers to wax his mustache, unable to hide his mischievous grin. "Remember that damn alien balloon thing Gage planted in that ice chest?"

Mike chuckled at the memory. "How could I forget?"

"Well, that's just it, Mike," Chet snickered, slapping his engineer on the shoulder. "Gage DID forget!"

"What do you mean?"

"Lily got his mind on… shall we say, other things…," he said wryly, giving Mike a knowing wink. "He forgot all about that little Martian."

Mike glared at his lineman, shaking his head. "Chet… Whatever you're planning on doing with it… Don't!"

"Oh… Don't worry… It won't be here," Chet laughed, sipping his coffee. "Cap'n Stanley would give me latrine duty for the rest of my career if I brought that thing into the station." He leaned against the counter, his blue eyes dancing below his curly dark hair. "Oh, no… I've got bigger plans for that little guy… Jus' you wait… When Gage least expects it-"

"When Gage least expects what?" Johnny asked, pushing his way through the kitchen door. He had overheard the end of Chet's comment and knew the Phantom was up to something.

Chet smiled, walking slowly past the inquisitive paramedic. He could feel Johnny's eyes following him as he silently made his way to the dorm to work on his assigned chores.

Johnny stood in the middle of the kitchen, one hand propped on his hip. "What was that all about?"

Mike retrieved the grocery list from the kitchen table. "Let it go, Johnny. He's just yanking your chain," Mike replied, handing the slip of paper to Johnny who quickly pocketed it in his shirt pocket.

"We're on our way to get supplies. You need this stuff for lunch or dinner?" Johnny asked, patting his shirt pocket.

"Both."

"A'right… So… What'll we be eating?" Johnny asked, the thought of food quickly derailing his train of thought about what the station prankster might be cooking up.

Without missing a beat, the clever engineer leveled the paramedic with an unreadable expression on his face. "I'm cooking tuna casserole for the crew… but you'll probably be getting a nice big slice of humble pie."

Johnny's eyebrow quirked in confusion as he silently repeated Mike's last phrase. He was about to ask the other man what he meant when the tones went off calling out the engine, the entire exchange quickly forgotten.

E!

Later that afternoon, Mike was cleaning up the kitchen when the station telephone rang. Knowing that their Captain was in his office, he made no effort to walk across the day room to answer it. Momentarily, Hank stuck his head in the kitchen doorway.

"Stoker, you seen Lopez?"

"I think Chet's showing him something in the back of his van."

Hank groaned, rolling his eyes. He wondered what type of retaliation the junior lineman might be planning for John's clever Martian attack on Halloween. "Ok, thanks, Pal."

Mike had just finished putting away the clean dishes when Marco walked into the kitchen with a puzzled look on his face. "You got a minute?"

"Yea, what's going on?" Mike asked, reaching for a damp dishcloth to wipe the crumbs from the lunch sandwiches off the table.

"That was Beverly on the phone just now," Marco explained, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards the dorm room where he had taken the call. "She said that Lexi called her and wants to meet with Bev and me as soon as I get off shift tomorrow."

Mike's face reflected his confusion. "Is something wrong?"

"I was hoping you might know what's going on. I know you two talked for a while after you left Johnny's party… Did she mention anything to you?"

Mike was about to say something when he heard Johnny whistling as he walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door.

"Hungry again already?" Mike asked.

"Just lookin' for some milk," Johnny replied, his head stuck into the refrigerator. "Oh, and some of this leftover cheesecake C-shift left us," he mumbled, removing the dish and carton of milk, using his hip to close the refrigerator door.

Mike looked over at Marco, shaking his head. "C'mon, let's go shoot some hoops," he said softly, leading his lineman out of the dayroom and across the apparatus bay to continue their conversation.

"She's up to something, Marco," Mike said, not being one to mince words. He picked up the basketball from the base of the goal and attempted a hook shot. "She needs money and… And I agreed to talk to my landlady about allowing Lexi to clean apartments in my complex." Mike didn't dare tell his friend about paying Lexi to attend Johnny's party. "She said she had some street debts to pay off," he said, sending the ball to his lineman with a chest pass.

"Humph," Marco scowled, dribbling in place. "What kind of street debts?"

"She wouldn't say… But she did promise me that she isn't returning to prostitution, Marco… and… I believe her," Mike added, hoping his friend might give Lexi the benefit of the doubt, too.

"How much?"

Mike knew what Marco was asking. "$300."

"Damn it," the lineman cursed, bounce-passing the ball to Mike before rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "Drug debts?"

Mike shrugged his shoulders. Truthfully, he had no idea what the money was for, but the thought of drugs had crossed his mind. "She hasn't been on drugs in a while, at least, not that we know of."

"Yea… that we know of." Marco leaned his forearm against the basketball goal post, the basketball completely forgotten as it rolled against the back of the retaining wall. Where his sister was concerned, he always had more questions than answers.

"I take it that Lexi didn't tell Beverly what she wanted to talk to you two about?"

Marco merely shook his head.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you out," Mike offered, knowing that his friend was going to worry the remainder of the shift, and truthfully, so was he. The mysteries of Alexia Lopez were many… and seemed to be multiplying.

E!

The following morning, Lexi waited on the front porch for Marco to pick her up. She had requested that their meeting occur at her brother's apartment. She didn't want to discuss such a serious issue within hearing range of her mother or Antonio, since both were the subject of the meeting. When she saw his burgundy sedan pull into the driveway, she quickly went out to meet him.

"Thank you, Marco."

"No problem, sis. What's going on?" he asked, hoping she wouldn't notice his fatigue. Even though the shift had been steady and nothing out of the ordinary, sleep had been elusive. His mind had been busy trying to figure out the purpose of this meeting.

"I'd rather not get into it until we get to your place, please, but… Nothing is wrong, okay?"

Marco cut his dark eyes at her in a sideways glance. He wanted to give her a smart-aleck retort but decided to remain silent. He didn't want to anger her before the meeting began.

When he and Lexi walked into his apartment, they were greeted to the smell of freshly baked banana bread muffins and coffee.

"Mmmm, smells good, Bev," he said, greeting his fiancée with a chaste kiss.

"I figured you'd be hungry," Beverly replied, wrapping her arm around his waist. "How are you, Lexi?"

"I'm fine," the younger woman replied. "Won't be long before the big day, you know?"

"I know… I'm so ready to become your sister-in-law," Beverly said, ushering them both into the kitchen where she had the table set waiting for them. It was clear to Marco that Beverly was as anxious about this meeting as he was.

As soon as the coffee had been poured, Lexi began to nibble on her muffin, licking her fingers before beginning to explain why she had requested to meet with them.

"Um, I have a really big favor to ask the two of you."

Marco and Beverly exchanged worried glances.

"See… I know that Antonio loves both of you so much and… Well, I was wondering if… I mean… Mama isn't getting any younger and…"

Beverly felt Marco's leg begin to bounce in his chair. She knew that she needed to help Lexi say what she was trying to say before Marco lost his mind with worry. "Lexi… is everything okay?"

"Yea… I'm just… I'm trying to make plans for… You know… In case something happens to me before Ant becomes an adult."

Marco felt his heart skip a beat. "Plans?"

"Yea… You know, for his future. I mean, I'm a single parent and… Well, Mama's been doing a wonderful job raising him, but I don't think it's fair to expect her to continue if… if something happens to me and… I was wondering if the two of you might agree to… you know, take him and raise him… if… If I can't."

"Lexi… are you planning on not being around to raise him yourself?" Beverly asked, trying to decipher the younger woman's true intentions.

"NO! Of course not… I just… think that the responsible thing to do is to make plans for his future. In case… you know… the worst happens."

Marco and Beverly again exchanged worried looks. Beverly reached beneath the table and grasped Marco's hand. She could feel him trembling.

"Where is this coming from, Lex?" Marco asked. "You know that your family will always be there for Antonio… for you too, for that matter. Why are you asking us this now?"

Lexi slowly chewed the bite of muffin she had placed in her mouth while she sought a way to explain things to her brother. She had not counted on him asking so many questions. "I know you think I'm planning on going back on the circuit," she said, reaching for her coffee. Between the muffin and the conversation, her mouth was growing dry. She took a tentative sip before continuing. "I'm not… But it would be a huge relief to me to have something in place in case something happens to me."

"Are you afraid that Ricardo will come after you when he gets out?" Beverly asked, knowing that Marco was wondering the same thing. It was a very legitimate concern.

"A little… maybe… but that's not the reason I'm asking you to do this for me." Lexi knew she needed to change tactics; she had to get the focus off her. "Beverly, I know you've always wanted to be a mother and Marco, I know how close you and Antonio have been since he was born. I would just feel better knowing that he could live with you two… if he had to."

"Have you talked to Mama about this?"

Lexi shook her head at her brother's question. "No," she said, using her fingers to pick up the remainder of her muffin. "I wanted to see if you two would agree to it before I told her." She used her napkin to wipe her fingers before continuing. "But I can see that this was a mistake." She stood up then, knowing that she was manipulating their feelings, but sensing that she had no other choice. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you wouldn't want to do this for me. Just forget I asked," she said, standing up and heading for the door. "Marco, will you take me home, please?"

"Wait just a minute," Marco said, following her into the foyer. "We didn't say we wouldn't do it. We're just… it caught us by surprise, that's all."

"Of course, we'll do it," Beverly added. "We love you and Antonio and if, God forbid, something should happen to prevent you from raising him, then we'd be honored to step into that role."

Lexi smiled, feeling a sense of relief. "Really? Oh, thank you," she said, quickly enveloping them both in a hug. "I'm so relieved to know that if I can't raise him, then he'll have what he wants most – a mother and a father."

"No… He'll have an Uncle and Aunt who love him enough to provide for him if his mother is not in a position to do so," Beverly corrected. "I would NEVER try to replace you as his mother."

Lexi felt her heart leap into her throat. "I… I appreciate that, Beverly."

There was a moment of awkward silence, finally broken by Beverly. "Marco, would you mind giving Lexi and me a few minutes alone… I'd like to talk to her… you know, woman to woman."

Marco's dark eyes moved back and forth between Beverly and Lexi, and his mustache seemed to twitch nervously. He could tell that Beverly suspected something, and he fully trusted his fiancée, which was more than he could say for his sister. "Um… yea… sure… I'll just go get a shower," he replied, taking a few steps towards the bedroom he now shared with Beverly. "I'll, uh, take you home when I get out, Lex."

"I can take her," Beverly quickly responded. She needed to be assured that she had enough time to have what was sure to be a very unpleasant conversation with Lexi.

Beverly waited until she knew Marco could no longer hear her before she turned to her younger guest. "Okay, Lex… cut the shit… What're you up to?"

Lexi's eyes widened. She hadn't heard Beverly swear in a long time. Then the full weight of her question landed on Lexi's shoulders. Her eyes narrowed, and she folded her arms across her chest, assuming a very defensive stance. "Nothing," she said flatly.

"You might be able to bluff the rest of your family, but I know that life just as well as you, and I'm calling bullshit on your little game!" Beverly was standing toe to toe with the shorter woman, her green eyes glaring. "He's gotten to you, hasn't he?"

"Who?"

Beverly rolled her eyes. "You know who. It's no coincidence that you're making these plans for Antonio a month before that sonofabitch gets out of jail. He's either threatened you or you're planning to go back to him."

"Neither!" Lexi spat out. "Just because I'm trying to take good care of my son, you think I'm planning on going back to hooking?"

"Are you?"

Lexi felt as if her head were about to explode. "NO!" She growled through gritted teeth.

"Then you must be going into hiding," Beverly suggested; there was no hint of judgment in her voice now. She knew what it was like to truly be in fear for your life. Her comment drew no reaction from the younger woman, which confused Beverly. Her future sister-in-law was truly one tough nut to crack.

"No," Lexi replied calmly, trying her best relax her muscles. She had to keep her cool; she knew that if she gave any hint of her plan away, Beverly would be the first one to pick up on it.

Feeling the need to keep the conversation going, Beverly continued with her line of questioning. "How many 20-year-old mothers are making plans for guardianship of their children?"

"All the good ones!" Lexi brushed past Beverly, intentionally nudging the other woman with her shoulder. She spun around, glaring at the older woman. "Why the hell can't you trust me, Beverly? What've I done to piss you off? If you don't want to take care of Antonio for me, then don't! I'll ask Carlos and Juanita to take him. He does have another aunt and uncle, you know?" Lexi scoffed.

"Knock it off, Lex…" Beverly was seething. "How dare you treat your son like he's a pawn in a game?"

Lexi was taken aback by the realization that Beverly was right. She stood in the middle of the living room, breathing hard. She could feel sweat beads forming on her upper lip. She refused to look at Beverly. She needed them to agree to do this… Without asking so many questions.

"He is, isn't he?" Beverly asked.

"He's what?"

"He's a pawn in some fuckin' game you're playing," Beverly spat out. She was seething and could not keep her tongue in check.

Lexi felt the backs of her eyes beginning to sting. Beverly had no idea just how much truth there was in her statement. "He isn't a pawn, Beverly. He's a…," she sniffled, hating the fact that her weakness was spilling onto her face. "He's a pre-precious little boy who… who deserves… to be… loved."

"By his mother," Beverly added.

Lexi dried her cheeks with the backs of her hands. "I do love him! I love that little fellow more than anything on earth. And… and that's why I would really appreciate it if you and Marco would agree to take care of him… if something happens and I can't."

The two women stood in the middle of the room, each looking away from the other. Moments ticked by while they both considered the position of the other. Lexi was afraid that if she continued talking, Beverly would soon piece together the truth. She wanted to run out the door and never look back, but she couldn't. Antonio's future was at stake, and no matter how frightened or angry Lexi might be, she had to secure his future before she carried out her plans.

Beverly exhaled loudly, frustrated by her inability to get to the truth. She wished she could speak to her future self, the one with a graduate degree, because Lexi seemed very determined to keep her demons inside her soul. The counselor cleared her throat when she heard the shower water turn off. She only had a short amount of time. She stepped closer to Lexi. "Ahem… of course we'll take care of him if you can't, but… but I want you to agree to a couple of things, too."

"W-what?"

"I want this to be completely legal. Marco and I will pay the attorney fee to draw up the papers."

Lexi breathed a sigh of relief. "Of course," she agreed. Perhaps having the paperwork to show would be best for her situation, too.

Beverly knew there was one more thing she needed the young mother to agree to. She stepped over to the kitchen table and retrieved her purse and keys. "We'll talk about the other part in the car."

E!

As Beverly and Lexi began the eight-mile journey from Marco's apartment to the Lopez family home, both of them felt anxious. While the traffic seemed to inch along the freeway, Beverly saw Lexi twisting her hair around her finger – a nervous habit she had displayed many times before.

"So… you're gonna tell Mama Lopez about this arrangement?" Beverly asked.

"Yea."

The older woman inhaled deeply. Lexi was not only anxious, she was angry. Beverly knew she needed to go ahead and say what was on her mind.

"Okay, I know you're pissed off, but I've only got Antonio's best interest in mind," Beverly began. "The other thing that I want in the guardianship paperwork is… is that Marco and I will get custody of Antonio if you are ever deemed an unfit parent." She cringed a bit, expecting an outburst from Lexi.

Lexi paused, closing her eyes. It was hard for her to hear, but she understood Beverly's concern. She had every right to feel that way. "Okay."

"Okay?" Beverly cast a glance at her future sister-in-law. "That's all you have to say?"

"What can I say? I've seen women drag their kids through hell only to lose them in court. That's traumatic for everyone." Lexi shifted her position, staring out the window at the city passing by. Only a few women ever got off those streets and lived a productive life. Of those who did manage to do the impossible, too many had lost their children to the foster care system along the way, rarely were they able to regain custody without social workers watching their every move. She knew that Beverly was even more keenly aware of those statistics than she was, so she was grateful that Antonio had an aunt who loved him enough to step in and prevent that from even being a possibility – even though Lexi knew that being judged to be an unfit mother wasn't going to happen. "I don't want Antonio going through anything like that. This way, he won't have to… Besides," she said, turning to look at Beverly. "I'm NOT going to be an unfit parent, so I have no problem signing paperwork to that effect."

Beverly couldn't believe what she was hearing. Had Lexi just agreed to her conditions? She had already been dreading telling Marco about this conversation, but now, it seemed that everything just might work out for the best. And if Lexi knew that she could lose custody of Antonio based on her behavior, then perhaps that would be just the impetus she needed to remain on the proverbial straight and narrow. But Beverly had spent most of her life learning to recognize manipulative people… and Lexi Lopez was one of the best she had ever met. Beverly's heart wanted to believe the young mother, but her years of experience warned her that this was exactly what Lexi wanted them to believe… and Beverly Marsh was not one to be easily fooled. She knew she would have to keep her eyes and ears open because whatever Lexi was planning to do had to happen soon, before Ricardo was released from jail, and that meant that she was running out of time.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Mike flipped on the light switch, then plopped his exhausted body down on his unmade bed. He needed to wash his sheets anyway, so although it went against his personal preferences, he hadn't taken the time to make up his bed before heading out early this morning. Now it was almost five o'clock in the afternoon and resting his sweaty body on the cool sheets felt soothing.

He had spent his day off working to help his landlady repaint a recently vacated apartment. She was always grateful for his help, exchanging his labor for rent. It was a good arrangement that had allowed him to accumulate a nice savings account, more than most firemen were able to save over a few years. Being a middle-aged single woman, she was perfectly capable of doing many things herself and preferred hiring out her tenants whenever possible. It seemed to give them an appreciation for the apartment complex, making them less likely to cause damage to their units, and she trusted the ones she chose to work for her - more than she trusted some contractors.

The day had also given him the opportunity to discuss Lexi's situation with his landlady. Mike grimaced, scrubbing his face with his hand, feeling the stubble along his jawline and chin. He hadn't bothered to shave before going to paint. There didn't seem to be a reason to waste time on the cumbersome task when he was only going to get paint spatter on himself. He thought about the conversation between him and his landlady regarding Lexi and felt a sense of warmth spread through his chest. Ms. Higginbottom was one of the most caring women he had ever met - both understanding and forgiving. She had always been quick to offer someone a hand up and Lexi was no different, although he had not told her all of Lexi's past. It didn't seem relevant. Now, he hoped he hadn't made a mistake. He didn't want anything damaging the current arrangement he had with Ms. Higginbottom.

He pulled himself into a sitting position and reached for the phone on his nightstand. Dialing the familiar number, he cleared his throat anticipating an answer.

"He-hello? I mean, uh, Lopez rez…rezz'dence."

Mike felt his cheeks grow warm as he tried not to laugh at the little boy who was trying so hard to act older than his five years. "Hey there, Antonio. You're learning to answer the phone, huh?"

"Oh, hi Mister Mike! My grandma told me what to say, but I kind o' messed it up. I'm tryin' real hard though. Did I do good?"

Mike chuckled at the precocious little boy who was trying to impress him. It was obvious that the little tyke wanted and needed Mike's approval. "Yes, you certainly did, Ant. I thought I was talking to a ten-year-old," the engineer said, his voice sounding much more animated because he was conversing with a child. And Antonio was a very special little boy in the eyes of Mike Stoker.

The excited gibberish of the child made Mike laugh out loud. He listened patiently as Antonio loudly whispered to Maria.

"Grandma, Mr. Mike said I sounded old!"

Mike was still laughing when Maria took the telephone away from her grandson.

"Hello, Michael?"

"Yes, ma'am. How are you today?"

Maria huffed into the phone. "Well, trying to teach telephone etiquette to Antonio, and we're making progress, I think," she laughed.

"Yes, ma'am; I'd say you are. Is Lexi available?"

Maria bit her lower lip, unsure of how much she should share with Mike. "No, she's, uh, she's out with Marco and Beverly. She should be back soon though. Should I have her call you?"

Mike rubbed his forehead. He was planning to take a long shower, grab a bite to eat, then relax with a cold beer and an old western movie. "Uh, yea, yes ma'am; that'd be great. Thank you. Oh, and tell Antonio to keep up the good work," he said, his voice light.

"I'll do that. Thank you, Michael. Goodbye."

"Bye."

Mike hung up the phone, then pushed himself off the bed. He was a strong man, but he felt the overexertion in his arms. He had been painting walls, his arms being raised over his head for most of the day. Now he needed to release the tension. As he walked towards his bathroom, he remembered how Lexi had given him massages, her fingers magically working out the knots in his muscles. He stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to loosen up the tightness, his mind drifting back to the days when he and Lexi were in a loving relationship. He closed his eyes, reminiscing until the water became too cool to be comfortable.

Using a towel to cover his nakedness, he exited the bathroom and began stripping the dirty sheets from his bed. He tossed them into his washing machine, then returned to dress and put clean linens on his bed.

A short time later, he made his way to his kitchen, barefoot and wearing only a pair of boxers and a tee shirt, and quickly made a couple of sandwiches. He stood at the kitchen counter, devouring the food and hydrating with multiple glasses of water. He knew he would feel much worse in the morning if he was dehydrated, and being on-shift was sure to bring opportunities to lose even more fluids, so he had to rehydrate tonight.

After the third glass of water, he washed the few dishes he had used, grabbed a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator and headed for his recliner. He stopped along the way to turn on his television to a channel that played old black and white cowboy movies. Finally, he released the lever on the recliner to lift his feet, and soon the only sounds in the apartment were the shots being fired on the television and the soft snores of an exhausted engineer.

E!

Outside a lawyer's office, Lexi opened the car door and slipped inside. She felt the backs of her eyes beginning to burn. She had just signed a document that, when executed, would remove Antonio from her care and her life forever. And it wasn't just Antonio she would be losing; she would probably never see the rest of her family again, either. She coughed into her fist, feeling the same emotions she had felt over five years ago. The document she had signed would finalize the process she had started the night she had laid her newborn son on her mother's front porch. She was giving Antonio a life that he could never have with her. It was what was best for him – it was the only choice she had at the time, and this was her only choice now.

"Sis? You okay?" Marco asked, seeing the haunted look on Lexi's face.

Lexi looked up, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror. She offered him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Yea, of course. This is what I wanted to do. It was my idea, remember?" She relaxed the muscles in her face, softening her expression.

"And it doesn't mean a thing unless something happens to you," Beverly reminded, turning to cast a glance into the back seat. "Nothing has changed, except you have made your contingency plan legal in every way."

"I know. Thanks," the younger woman commented, looking out the window as Marco backed the car out of the parking space at the attorney's office. The rest of the ride home was made in complete silence.

By the time the trio made their way into the Lopez residence, Maria and Bri were busily working on dinner while Antonio sat at the kitchen table with a coloring book and crayons.

"So, you think I should call Samford and accept his job offer?"

Maria looked over at her houseguest. "I'm not telling you what you should do. You are welcome here as long as you want to stay with us. I really enjoy having you around, but I think this could be a wonderful opportunity that might lead to something more," the senior woman said, returning to the ground beef she was browning.

"Hmm," Bri commented, continuing to chop the onions and peppers. "I hadn't thought about that. Do you think I might be able to get a job in an old folks' home or something… If I do a good job for the Bennett's?" she added, passing the bowl of diced vegetables.

Maria chuckled, accepting the proffered bowl. She had been listening to the way the young woman talked about Samford for the last twenty minutes, and she had seen them talking to each other at Johnny's party. She knew that Samford was obviously interested in Bri and she couldn't have been happier for her daughter's friend.

"Old folk's home? You won't last long if you call it an old folks' home," Maria laughed, nudging Bri with her elbow. The topic of conversation had changed, but the mood was light, and Maria didn't want to change that. When she heard the front door close, she felt tension in her chest. Why was it that her daughter could change her mood just by walking into their house?

Lexi headed up the stairs, not feeling like talking to anyone. Marco and Beverly gave each other a knowing glance, then headed into the kitchen to give Maria an update. As they entered the kitchen, Maria could tell by the look on their faces that something was very wrong. Her heart began to beat in her throat. For the sake of her grandson, she didn't put her thoughts into words.

"Is she upstairs?" Bri asked.

Beverly confirmed with a simple nod.

Bri wiped her hands on a dishtowel. "I'll go talk to her."

"Tell her that Mike called. He wants her to call him back," Maria said, noticing that Antonio's head jerked up from his coloring book at the sound of Mike's name.

"And I answered the phone when he called, and he said I did it good and old," the little boy said proudly.

Bri heard the chuckles from the kitchen as she hurried from the room and briefly wondered what Antonio had said. She wanted to ask, but there was a much more pressing matter at the moment. She rushed up the stairs, forgetting to knock before she entered Lexi's bedroom. The look of shock on her friend's face nearly made Bri panic.

"I'm sorry."

Lexi slammed her diary closed, shoving it back into the drawer, but not before Bri caught a glimpse of the money that Lexi was obviously hiding there. Bri saw her friend's face turn pale as Lexi quickly began cramming jewelry into a trinket box.

"Lexi… What's going on?"

"No-nothing… Just taking a little inventory of what I own. Is that a crime or something?" she asked, knowing her comment was snarky.

"What the hell?" Bri questioned, catching a fleeting glimpse of a string of pearls going into the box that normally contained only her heirloom rosary.

"A gift from Michael, if you must know," Lexi spat out at her friend, returning the box to its place of safekeeping in the drawer.

"When?" Bri asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew that if Mike had given Lexi a pearl necklace, she would have been wearing it every day. She certainly would not be hiding such an expensive gift from her family.

"After the party," Lexi replied, the lie slipping calmly off her lips. "I went home with him. He gave me the necklace and then we… Well," she smirked, keeping the ruse going by deflecting Bri's attention from the jewelry in question. "I'm sure you can figure out how I thanked him."

Bri felt like she was going to vomit. She knew Lexi was lying, but she had no way of disputing the claim. "Good for you… He wants you to call him by the way. Maybe he wants a refund," she smarted off, then turned to walk away. The more she was around Lexi, the more she distrusted her.

As Bri walked back down the stairs, she thought about the verbal exchange. The longer she stayed in the Lopez home, the less she liked the woman she had called her best friend for years. Maybe Mama Lopez was right. Maybe taking the job at the Bennett home was the right thing to do. She had spent the last couple of days wavering back and forth, but this last conversation with Lexi had cemented her decision. After dinner, she would call Samford and officially accept the job.

E!

The ringing telephone jolted Mike from a deep slumber. He stumbled over the coffee table, momentarily forgetting that he was at home and not at the station. He picked up the receiver with his hand, rubbing his aching knee with his free hand.

"Ahem… Hello?"

"Mama said you called for me," Lexi said quickly, her heart racing with the hope that his landlady had agreed to allow her to clean apartments.

Mike rubbed one eye with the heel of his hand, struggling to become fully awake. "Oh, hi, Lexi."

"I'm sorry. I guess my greeting was a little abrupt," she apologized.

"Yea… a little," he joked, finally regaining all his faculties. He stifled a yawn. "I talked to my landlady today. She said you can clean apartments. She'll inform all the residents that you're available."

"Really?"

Mike rubbed the back of his neck trying to relieve the stiffness. "Yes, she wants you to come over and meet with her, go over some basic rules, and discuss pricing."

"What do you mean?"

Mike wanted to roll his eyes, but he realized that Lexi had never had a real job before. She knew nothing about contracts, or expectations other than the rules her pimp had put into place. "Just to go over how much you plan on charging and the fact that the residents have the right to decline the offer of housekeeping services…. She'll probably ask you to sign an agreement saying you won't take anything from the apartments and won't go into any apartment without the authorized consent of the resident… blah, blah, blah… You know, that kind of thing."

"You TOLD her that I used to be a hooker? Thanks a lot, Mike!"

Now Mike was completely awake. "Lexi! Calm down! No, I didn't say anything about it. This is the kind of thing everyone has to do, regardless of their past."

"Oh," she replied, realizing her mistake. She was so anxious that she was jumping to conclusions. "I'm sorry."

"Anyway," Mike continued. "Please call her and schedule an appointment to go over everything, alright?"

"Sure… I will… and thank you, Michael. I really mean it."

Mike felt his stubbly cheeks begin to warm. "You're welcome. I'm happy to help. Oh, and I'll be your first client, okay?"

Lexi felt the back of her throat begin to sting. Michael was one of the best men she had ever known. "Thank you. I appreciate it so much, Michael."

The conversation ended, and Lexi hung up the telephone. She returned to her room, closing and locking the door behind her. She didn't want Bri walking in on her again, but she also didn't want anyone to see that she was crying. She sat on her bed, leaning against the headrest, pulling a pillow against her abdomen, and wept. There was so much in life that she had missed. She had missed Antonio's first teeth, his first steps, his first words. Now it looked like her time with him might be cut short. At least she had taken the right steps to ensure his happiness for the future. She wiped her face, not caring about smearing her make-up. No one was going to see her. She hugged the pillow closer, wishing that things could have gone differently with Mike. She had never known a man who had treated her so respectfully since her father had died.

E!

Samford Bennett was just sitting down for a quiet dinner with his mother when their telephone rang.

"Bennett residence, Sam speaking."

"Hi, this is Bri. Um, is the job still available?"

Samford couldn't stop the smile from crossing his face. The last time he had spoken to Bri, he had assumed that she had definitely made up her mind, but now he wasn't so sure. "It is… are you saying you're interested?"

Bri took a deep breath. This was a big step, one she hoped she wouldn't regret. She looked across the hall at Lexi's closed door. She had made up her mind. She was through trying to renew her friendship with Lexi. She had learned that it takes two to maintain a friendship, but only one to destroy it. Lexi had certainly damaged their friendship, probably beyond repair, so this was a good time to get a fresh start.

"Yes, yes, I am definitely interested," she replied, her voice strong and confident.

"Oh, that's great," Samford replied, glancing at his mother and offering her a warm smile. "How soon can you start?"

Bri was tempted to ask him if he could come pick her up immediately, but then thought better of it. She wanted to have a degree of professionalism. After all, this was going to be her first honest job. "Well, I don't have a lot of things to pack up, so… How about this weekend?"

"Saturday morning?"

Bri bit her bottom lip. She almost felt as if someone else had taken over her voice. "Yes, that would be great. Can you pick me up? I don't know where you live and… I don't have my own transportation."

"Absolutely, I can be there around ten o'clock. Will that work?"

"Yes, I'll be ready and… Thank you, Samford. I promise to do the very best I can to make you and your mother happy."

Bri hung up the phone, returned it to the table in the hallway, and stood for a moment staring at Lexi's closed door. She thought she heard sniffling from inside the other woman's bedroom, but she pressed her lips into a thin line. Whatever was going on with Lexi was beyond Bri's ability to help. It was time for her to lookout for herself. She turned and slowly headed down the stairs. Now she had to let the rest of the Lopez family know about her plans.

E!

Mike meticulously packed his bag for his next shift. After zipping it closed and dropping it beside his front door for easy retrieval on his way out the following morning, he fished all the coins out of his front pocket and dropped them into the bowl in his foyer. Lexi was scheduled to begin cleaning apartments in the morning and he was going to be her first client. He dropped ten dollars into the bowl, their agreed upon place for him to leave her payment, then returned to his bedroom. After completing his bedtime routine, he slipped between the sheets, turned off the lamp, then lay staring at the darkened ceiling thinking about the money that Lexi said she needed.

He blew out his breath, puffing out his cheeks. He had much more than $300 in his savings account and was tempted to simply give it to her, but he knew better than to do something so foolish. She needed to earn the money by doing honest work and he hoped that the part-time housekeeping job might help her to not only pay whatever bills she had outstanding, but it might also help her regain something he knew she needed even more – she needed to regain her self-confidence by proving she was capable of working a job to meet her own needs. He had counted the coins in the bowl in his foyer knowing that she would probably help herself to a few of them. He decided that he wouldn't count them upon returning from his shift; he didn't want to confirm her thievery. Instead, he chose to consider the loss a tip. At least, that was how he was justifying it in his mind.

He finally closed his eyes whispering to himself. "Lexi… What the hell are you up to?"

E!

Captain Stanley paced back and forth in front of his assembled crew, impatiently waiting for his senior medic to finish putting on his uniform and join the rest of the crew. Finally, Roy exited the locker room and took his position beside his partner.

"Glad you could make it, DeSoto," the frustrated fire captain said curtly. "Now, we've got some unusually wet weather coming into the area later today and we all know how well our citizens drive in the rain."

A chorus of groans let him know his men understood what he meant. The shift was likely to be a busy one due to fender-benders and cars careening off the road while hydroplaning.

"So, let's get the chores done quickly and wait on the tones to drop. And let's be safe, men." He looked at his crew, his eyes lingering on his senior medic. The man's face showed that he had missed a few hours of sleep. He wondered if the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday was going to bring an extended visit from Joanne's mother. He fought the urge to smile at that thought. He would keep an eye on Roy just to make sure that everything was okay. As the captain of Station 51's A-shift, it was his job to ensure that his men were fit for duty; the citizens deserved it and the crew expected it from each other.

"Cap?" Chet questioned, his bushy eyebrows rising to emphasize his question.

Hank, confused at first, soon realized his mistake. "Oh, yea… Kelly – apparatus bay, Lopez – kitchen, Stoker – dorms, Gage – dayroom, and DeSoto – latrines."

As the men dispersed towards their assigned areas, the klaxon sounded. The resulting scurry looked like a well-choreographed dance as they never missed a step or even bumped into each other; each man turning away from his assignment and towards his respective seat in the emergency vehicles.

Johnny tightened his chinstrap, accepting the address slip as it was passed to him by his silent partner. He quickly considered the traffic at this hour and began directing Roy on the quickest route to the scene of the accident.

"The rain hasn't even started yet, and they're already running off the damn freeway," Roy groused, his eyes never leaving the road.

Johnny gritted his teeth, knowing better than to respond. If the first ten minutes of the shift was any indication, it was going to be a very long twenty-four hours.

Once on scene, Roy pulled the squad onto the shoulder of the highway while Mike positioned the engine at an angle to protect both the victims and the rescuers from passing traffic. Roy took the lead, assessing the driver of the only car involved in the accident.

The strong smell of alcohol billowed from the vehicle as soon as Roy popped the door open with a prybar.

"Sir, can you hear me?"

"Ugh."

"I'm Roy DeSoto. I'm a paramedic with the fire department," he said, his voice sounding hollow. "Can you tell me where you're hurt?"

"Uh, nu," the man moaned, trying to pull away from Roy as he assessed the man's pupillary response.

"Watcha got, Roy?" Johnny asked, setting up the biophone while Chet brought the rest of the medical equipment and Marco worked to disconnect the battery cables.

"Another drunk," the senior medic responded.

Johnny quirked his eyebrow in Roy's direction. They often destressed by complaining about how people got themselves into some weird predicaments, but he had never known his partner to speak so callously about an injured victim before the man had even been extricated. Again, he pressed his lips into a thin line, retrieved his green pen and note pad from his pocket for taking notes, and pinned the biophone handset between his ear and shoulder.

"Rampart, this is squad 51; how do you read?"

Roy heard Johnny making the hospital connection and began taking vitals. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Tu, two beers," came the slurred response.

Roy rolled his eyes. It never failed to amaze him that every drunk driver never consumed more than two beers before crashing his car.

"Smells like whiskey to me," Roy grumbled, removing his hand from the man's abdomen. "Johnny, BP is 160/84, pulse is 88, respiration rate is 20... Obvious smell of alcohol." He heard Johnny relaying the information while he began dressing the bleeding head injury above the victims left eye. "Looks like you'll be needing a few stitches, but I think you'll be okay."

"G-good," the man hiccupped. "Feelin' b-better a'ready."

"I'm surprised you're feeling anything at all," Roy mumbled, not realizing that Johnny had overheard him.

"He goin' to the hospital?" Vince asked, leaning his flattened palm against the roof of the car.

"Yea," Roy responded, cutting the officer an exasperated glance. "Going to need stitches. Will he be arrested?"

"Drunk driving?"

Roy nodded his affirmation. "Only two beers, Vince."

"Always," the officer replied, whipping out his pen and ticket book. "Kind of early to be drinking, don't you think?" Vince questioned the driver.

"Nah," the man replied, suddenly feeling emboldened by his lack of serious injury. "I'm on my way home from The Caravel."

This information perked Vince's ears. "You mean to tell me that you've been out drinking all night and you only had two beers?"

"Yep… I'm a cheap da-date," the victim chuckled. "Guess I fell asleep on my way home."

"More likely you passed out," Roy countered. "You smell like a vat. You're lucky you didn't kill yourself or some innocent person."

"Roy, ETA on the ambulance is four minutes," Johnny said, wishing it would arrive sooner. Roy was becoming more and more inappropriate with their victim and Johnny needed to talk to him about his behavior.

Vince pocketed his pen. "You ridin' in with him?" he asked the senior medic.

"Yea… as drunk as he is, he could aspirate or have a seizure on the way in," Roy grimaced.

"A'right," Vince replied. "I'll follow the ambulance and then haul him in after the doc stitches him up."

"You'll probably want a blood test for court," Roy added, watching as Vince nodded his head.

After the ambulance drove away with the patrol car following, Johnny began cleaning up the medical debris. He glanced into the passenger's floorboard of the crumpled car where he noticed a broken bottle of Jack Daniels, the stench of the spilled whiskey permeated the entire car. He glanced up at the departing ambulance and shook his head. This time, the victim might actually have been telling the truth.

"Cap, you need me here for clean-up?"

Hank glanced around the scene then waved his junior medic off. "We've got it. Go ahead and get Roy, then meet me in my office when you get back to the station."

Johnny felt a sense of dread following him like a shadow on the drive to Rampart. He knew that their superior had either noticed Roy's foul mood or had overheard his inappropriate behavior with their victim… Or both. What had started out as a possibly difficult shift had just been confirmed to be exactly that… Or worse.

E!

Dixie McCall sat perched on the edge of her stool behind the nurses' station, staring at the door of treatment room 2. One of her favorite paramedics had just come in with a victim of a single motor vehicle accident, and Roy DeSoto was in a very rare foul mood. He had been curt with her when she had directed him into the treatment room, and that did not sit well with the head nurse. She was determined to discuss his attitude with him as soon as he walked out of the room, which was why she was sitting at the nurses' station sipping her morning coffee rather than enjoying her break in the staff lounge. The familiar shuffle of boots coming down the hallway urged her to shift her blue eyes away from the treatment room door.

"Hey, Tiger."

"Mornin', Dix," Johnny mumbled, helping himself to the fresh pot of coffee behind the nurse.

Dixie recognized the sour face. She dropped her pen onto the metal file in front of her and spun around on her stool. "Alright… What's going on with my favorite paramedics?"

Johnny leaned his backside against the counter, crossed one arm over his chest and blew across his hot cup of coffee. "Nothin's goin' on with me but…" He paused, nodding his head in the direction of the open treatment room door, watching as his partner quickly walked past them and headed for the pay phones at the other end of the hall. "I think somethin's up with Roy and Joanne."

"No kidding," Dixie added, glaring her eyes at the back of the departing paramedic. "He was snappy with me when he came in."

"Yea… and snappy with our victim, too. We've got an appointment with Cap when we get back to the station."

"Uh-oh," Dixie muttered. Her opportunity for an apology from Roy seemed to have disappeared for the moment, but another thought came to her mind. "Speaking of wives…" She hesitated, looking around to ensure that no one else would overhear what she was about to ask. The Rampart rumor mill was always active, mainly powered by her own nursing staff. "Is everything okay between Chet and Caroline?"

Johnny straightened up to his full height, his curiosity piqued. "As far as I know; why do you ask?" He knew that Dixie was not one to stir up trouble.

"Oh… Just something… strange I noticed at your party the other night?"

Johnny looked down the hallway, seeing Roy still talking on the telephone. "Spill it, Dix."

"Maybe I just misunderstood what I saw. It's probably nothing."

"Nu-uh," Johnny argued. "Your women's intuition is the best there is. What exactly did you see?"

"Well… When I went inside to get the champagne, I walked in on Chet with his back to me, obviously zipping up his pants, and Lexi was adjusting her blouse. It just seemed… odd."

Johnny knitted his eyebrows in response.

Dixie continued. "Chet didn't act strangely… well, no more than usual," she snickered. "But Lexi… I don't know… She seemed to make it a point to say that she had used the upstairs bathroom because Chet was occupying the guest bathroom."

"Like she was pointing out that they were not, um, occupying it together?"

Dixie immediately regretted saying anything. It sounded too much like nosey gossip to her, now that she heard herself say it. "I'm sorry, I'm sure it was completely innocent. Just forget I said anything," the nurse said, lightly tilting her head to let Johnny know that Roy was returning.

"Ready to go?"

Johnny set down his coffee cup. "Yea… Cap wants to see us in his office. See ya, Dix."

"Bye."

Roy and Johnny walked silently side by side down the hallway, making the left turn towards the emergency entrance in perfect stride. As they settled into the squad, Johnny couldn't contain his silence any longer.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"No," Roy responded, his eyes staring forward as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street.

"Oh… I see," Johnny mumbled. His years with Roy had made him fairly skillful at recognizing the older man's moods. "Guess your mother-in-law is coming for a visit during the holidays, huh?"

"Not this year… thankfully."

Johnny continued to stare at his partner, the wind from the open window whipping through his dark hair. He propped his elbow on the window ledge and ran a nervous finger beneath his nose. He considered mentioning Dixie's comments to Roy but thought better of it. It sounded like the man didn't need any more on his mind.

"Oh… Kids doin' okay?"

Roy cut his eyes at Johnny. He knew his partner knew him well enough to know that something was very wrong. Johnny was his best friend and Roy knew the younger man had a tendency to think he had done something wrong any time Roy was in a foul mood. He knew that Johnny's questions were more a process of elimination – and it was obvious that Johnny was trying to ensure that Roy wasn't mad at him. He huffed in exasperation.

"Jo and I had a big fight this morning."

"Ah, man… sorry. Anything I can do to help?"

Roy thought about the argument that had ensued when Johnny tried to give Joanne Mike's spaghetti recipe. "Hell, no… not again."

Roy saw Johnny's shoulders drop and knew that he had offended his friend… again. "Johnny… I'm sorry; I didn't mean it like that."

Johnny remained silent, unsure of how to respond.

Roy slowed down and pulled into the parking lot of a vacant building. He shifted into park, then turned to face his partner. "Look… Joanne was going through her closet this morning, picking out what she wanted to wear to Marco and Beverly's wedding. She found the dress she wanted to wear but when she opened the bottom drawer of her jewelry box to see how the dress would look with her grandmother's pearls… they were gone."

"Gone?"

"Yea… gone. The drawer was empty. Johnny, she only wears those pearls on special occasions like weddings or… holidays… and they're heirloom pearls… the necklace and matching earrings. We both accused Jennifer of playing with them, which ended up with Jennifer crying. I really don't think Jen lost them. But… what happened to them? I know Joanne didn't misplace them because they mean too much to her. She last wore them when we went out to dinner for our anniversary and I specifically remember her taking them off and putting them back in the jewelry box."

"You can remember that?"

"It was a special night, Johnny… if you must know… I removed them, okay?" Roy answered, raising his eyebrows in a knowing look. He hoped he didn't need to spell it out in detail.

"Ohh, I see… then… Did YOU misplace them?" Johnny asked, innocently.

Roy shifted the squad back into drive. "That comment is exactly what led to our argument!"

"Oh."

"Anyway, no, I didn't misplace them. And I just called her back to see if she'd found them and she hasn't."

"Man, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yea, me too. Even if I could afford to replace them… which I can't on my salary… it just wouldn't be the same because they're the only thing she inherited from her grandmother."

"Let me guess, she's mad at you and is at home crying… Jennifer is mad at both of you and is probably at school pouting… and… And the pearls are still missing."

"You got it… and now I guess I've done something wrong that's got Cap pissed off, so this is turning into a really swell day."

"Hmmm, well… you were kind o' rude to our victim back there." Johnny saw the daggers shooting from Roy's eyes. He held his hands up in surrender. "Look, I didn't say anything to Cap, but I think maybe he heard you."

"The guy was drunk and wrecked his car! He could've killed himself or someone else… Hell, we could've died trying to save his sorry ass!"

"ROY!" Johnny yelled, placing both hands on the dash.

Roy's attention quickly returned to the street where he saw the stop sign. He somehow managed to stop the vehicle just in time, leaving both of them with elevated heart rates and breathing hard.

"Damn," the senior man cursed softly.

"Yea…. Want me to drive the rest of the way?"

Roy shook his head, slipping his foot off the break. "I'm okay… I'm sorry, Johnny. I shouldn't have taken it out on you… or the victim, I guess."

"No, you shouldn't've… but we're good. I don't know about Cap, though."

"Yea," was all Roy said as he pulled to a stop in front of the station and backed the squad into place in the apparatus bay, rolling his eyes when Chet tried to direct him into place. "Does he really think I need his help."

"That's just Chet," Johnny replied, trying to lighten the mood, but realizing it wasn't working. The only thing could help right now was to find Joanne's pearls… soon.

The two men got out of the squad and headed straight to the captain's office. Hank looked up, motioning for them to have a seat, and shut the door. The captain leaned back in his chair, looking at his two medics as they took seats. After a moment of awkward silence, he propped an elbow on his desk.

"What happened back at the scene?"

Johnny looked at Roy, while Roy stared at the floor. Neither man spoke.

Hank realized that he had to get straight to the point. "Roy? How's our victim?"

"Doc says he'll be fine. Just needs a few stitches… and…" He hesitated, glancing at Johnny, regretting that he hadn't updated his partner before now. "And doc doesn't think he was over the legal limit."

Johnny's eyes widened. Hank shifted in his seat.

"So, he may not have deserved the harsh response he received from his rescuers, then… am I right?"

Johnny felt his defenses rising, but it was Roy who spoke on his behalf.

"It wasn't Johnny, Cap… It was just me."

Hank already knew the truth, and he was glad to see Roy admitting it, too. "Okay," he responded, looking over at his junior medic. "John, you're excused."

"Yes, sir."

Johnny left the captain's office, worried about his partner, but he hadn't had a chance to do his chores for the shift, so he went ahead to the dayroom and began straightening it up.

Inside his office, Hank continued. "Roy… I need an explanation."

E!

Chet, who had already finished mopping the apparatus bay, followed Johnny into the dayroom. "Gage… what'd you two do?"

Johnny, broom in hand, rolled his eyes as he spun around to face his nemesis. He had already opened his mouth when suddenly Dixie's comments came back to him. He closed his gaping mouth as another thought crossed his mind. He knew Chet would never intentionally do anything to jeopardize his relationship with Caroline; he simply loved her too much. But hadn't Dixie said that Lexi was adjusting her blouse while saying that she had used the DeSotos' master bathroom? Johnny knew the DeSoto residence as well as he knew his own. The master bath was inside the master bedroom which meant that Lexi would have gone through the bedroom to use it. Joanne's dresser was beside the bathroom, and her jewelry box was on the corner, right beside the door. Was it possible that Lexi had stolen Joanne's priceless pearls?

"Hey… Earth to Gage?" the Irishman yelled.

"Huh?"

"I asked… What did you two do?" Chet repeated, pointing towards Captain Stanley's office.

"I didn't do anything, but…" Johnny walked closer to Chet to be sure no one overheard him. "Roy and Jo had a little disagreement this morning, and… I think I may know how to resolve it."

"Not another Stoker recipe, I hope."

The paramedic rolled his eyes. "Oh, ha-ha!" Johnny responded, opening the side door. He looked back at Chet and jerked his head.

Chet understood the signal and walked over to the place where Johnny stood. The two stepped outside into the station driveway, Johnny still holding the cleaning tools. He looked at Chet with a seriousness the lineman hadn't seen in a while.

"Chet, I need to ask a very serious question," the medic whispered.

Chet crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay, shoot."

"At the party, when you went inside to take a shower, was Lexi in the house with you?"

Chet rubbed his chin, not liking what his shiftmate was implying. "Look," the Irishman began, trying to hold back his temper. "If you think that I-"

"Hell no, Chet. That's not what I'm askin'."

"Then what exactly are you asking?"

Johnny glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was in the kitchen. He didn't want anyone seeing him talking to Chet in such a curious place. "I'm just tryin' to figure out somethin', a'right?"

Chet could tell by his seriousness that Johnny wasn't questioning his fidelity to Caroline. "Yea, okay… When I was walking out of the bathroom, she was coming down the stairs. Said she had used the upstairs bathroom. Why?"

"Ah, man… That's what I thought." Johnny leaned against the closed door, looking up at the hazy Los Angeles morning sky. "Roy's situation involves missing jewelry," he said, shifting his gaze to the shorter man.

"And you think Lexi took it?"

Johnny exhaled loudly. "Yea…"

"Have you said anything to Marco?"

"I haven't even told Roy, yet. I just put all the pieces together, myself."

"Damn," Chet cursed, shifting his stance to mimic Johnny's. "I hope you're wrong, Gage. Marco's about to celebrate the most important day of his life and we're all supposed to be there."

"And if I'm right… our crew might never be the same."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Roy slammed the dorm room phone down and scrubbed his face with his hand. He stood up, stretching his back. The engine crew had been called out to a grass fire along the freeway, leaving the paramedics alone at the station. Normally it would be time for 'lights out' but with the captain still out on the run, the two remaining crew members were in no hurry to prepare for bed. They seldom got a decent night's sleep anyway.

"Still no pearls?"

Roy turned around, seeing his partner standing with his elbow propped on the half wall beside Mike's bunk. The senior man shook his head, turning towards the locker room. He needed to get ready for bed.

Johnny followed Roy's lead, knowing that now was the best chance he would have to broach the subject of the jewelry and the role Lexi may have played in its disappearance.

As the two men began their nightly routine, Johnny was the first to speak.

"Roy… what if the jewelry wasn't misplaced?"

Roy looked up from the sink where he was brushing his teeth, his blue eyes staring at Johnny's reflection in the mirror. He spit out the foamy toothpaste residue, rinsed his mouth, and patted his face dry with a towel before he responded.

"I know what you're thinking," the red-haired man said, stepping over to his locker.

"Do you?"

"Yea… I mentioned it to Joanne on that last call," he replied, tossing his toiletry bag into his locker before he began removing his uniform shirt.

"And?"

"Damn, Junior…" Roy shook his head as he made his way to his locker.

Having finished his own oral hygiene routine, Johnny followed Roy, unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off, then hanging it up in his locker. When he was left clad in only his tee shirt and boxers, he leaned against his locker looking at the haggard face of his best friend. "So… what does Joanne think?"

"She's even more pissed at me now than she was before I mentioned it," Roy commented, cramming his spent uniform into his bag.

"She doesn't want to believe that Lexi would steal from her?"

Roy hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, then looked at his partner. "I don't either… but no one else had the opportunity."

Johnny exhaled loudly as the two firemen returned to the dorm room and readied their bunker gear beside their beds. Roy turned off the lights and the two men slipped into their beds. Both men were lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling.

"Roy," Johnny began, bending his elbow to rest his head in the palm of his hand. "What are you going to say to Marco?"

Roy rolled over onto his right side to look at his partner. "I really don't know. Jo doesn't believe it, but… I do."

"Yea."

"I dunno what to do, Johnny. I don't want to upset Marco just a week before his wedding, but… I want Jo's pearls back."

"If it's not too late," Johnny added.

"You think Lexi sold them?"

"Maybe… Who knows?"

Silence fell between them; the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock above Marco's bunk. Neither man spoke, but neither one was going to get much sleep, either. It was Johnny who broke the silence.

"Mike."

"What?"

Johnny leaned up on one elbow, looking over at Roy in the dim light from the street lamp outside the dorm room window. "I said Mike."

"Yea, I heard you, but what about him?"

"Maybe you should talk to Mike; you know… get his opinion on the situation. He might have some insight on Lexi stealing the jewelry."

"I'll think about it," Roy said, rolling onto his back and letting his head rest against his pillow. "One thing's for sure… If I talk to Marco about it, then I run the risk of ruining his wedding… and if I don't, and Lexi did take the pearls, then I run the risk of her hocking them before I have a chance to get them back for Joanne."

"It's a no-win situation, huh?"

"Yep… and if I talk to Mike… well… no fireman needs to piss off the man who controls his water supply," Roy said, sarcastically.

Before Johnny could respond, the klaxons sounded calling the men out on an obstetrical call. The paramedics quickly stepped into their bunker gear, pulling the red suspenders onto their shoulders as they scurried out of the room. Roy acknowledged the call, writing down the address while Johnny consulted the wall map.

In a matter of minutes, the squad was pulling up to a dilapidated house in a rundown neighborhood. The men exited the squad, discretely looking around for any threats to their safety while listening for the approach of law enforcement to back them up. The paramedics began pulling out the gear they knew they would be needing if the baby decided to enter the world prior to the mother reaching the hospital.

Roy, taking the lead, pulled back on a ragged screen door, knocking on the unpainted wooden door behind it. "Fire department!"

A stringy haired teenage girl opened the door, the obvious smell of marijuana smoke billowing from the open doorway. "Heeyyy, c'mon in."

"Miss… Did you call the fire department?" Roy asked, following her into the residence. He glanced over his shoulder and noticed the grimace on Johnny's face. He knew his partner had smelled the familiar odor, too.

"Yea… it's my sister. She's 'bout to have her baby, I think."

The paramedics pushed passed the slow-moving young woman, following the sounds of moaning coming from the back of the tiny house.

Roy followed the sounds to a bedroom and knocked on the door. "Ma'am… Fire Department!"

The only response was a muffled moan. He immediately tried the door knob only to discover that it was locked. He rapped on the door a couple of times with his open hand. "Ma'am, can you unlock the door?"

While Roy continued his efforts to gain entry, Johnny turned to the unkempt young woman behind him. "Miss, how long has she been in labor?"

"Hell, if I know," the girl replied, uncaringly. She took another drag from her joint.

"Listen, we really need you to focus here, a'right? So, would you mind putting that down and waiting on the police and ambulance to arrive?" he suggested, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

"Ain't lettin' no pigs in my house!"

"Look, your sister's life and the life of her baby may be in danger. We really need for you to direct the ambulance attendants back here to where she is!"

The girl remained standing in place, staring at Roy as he took a few steps back from the door. Johnny, realizing what his partner was about to do, stepped in front of the girl to block her from any attempts at stopping the forced entry.

With one swift kick, Roy breached the lock; the force slammed the door against the bedroom wall, jarring a picture and sending it crashing to the floor. Johnny followed his partner into the room, hearing the delayed slurry speech of the teenage girl.

"Oooh, that was pretty far out!"

Roy removed his helmet, bending down beside the bed to assess the young woman who lay in a fetal position beneath the covers. He began trying to talk to her but was getting no response.

Johnny, after setting down his equipment, turned again to the other resident. "What's her name?"

"Penelope… we jus' call her Penny."

Roy overheard the name and began addressing her by her first name in an attempt to elicit some kind of response, but to no avail. While Johnny began establishing contact with Rampart, Roy started questioning the pregnant woman's sister.

"How far along is she?"

"I dunno."

"Where's she getting prenatal care?" he asked, checking her vitals.

"Huh?"

"Who's her doctor? You know, who's gonna deliver her baby?" Johnny clarified.

"You, I guess," the stoned woman snickered.

Exasperated, Johnny grimaced. "Where's the baby's father? Maybe he can give us more information."

"She don't even know who knocked her up," the sister replied.

"Johnny, respiration rate is 10 and shallow, pulse is 60, BP is 160/90… pupils are constricted," the senior man spat out. "Ma'am, I'm going to roll you onto your back, so I can check you, okay?"

Johnny reached for the oxygen, passing it to Roy then turned to his side, hoping to reduce the background noise while he relayed the information to the hospital staff. But what he saw underneath the edge of the bed made his stomach drop. "Hey, Roy?"

Roy positioned the oxygen mask on her face then turned around to see where Johnny was pointing. There was a pair of sneakers without the laces and a bent metal spoon with soot covering the bottom. Both men knew what that meant. "Ma'am… when was the last time you shot up?" he asked, pushing up the sleeves of her sweatshirt to look for track marks.

Johnny relayed the information to Rampart including the information about suspected heroin usage. When he heard the other woman gasp, he turned around quickly.

Roy had removed the covers and found a large pool of blood. "Johnny, she's hemorrhaging," he called out, reaching for the IV supplies. He knew that the Rampart doctor was going to be ordering an IV of Lactated Ringers to counteract the blood loss.

"Rampart, we have a potential placental abruption," Johnny commented, turning to the wide-eyed sister. "Go wait on the ambulance and send them back here as soon as they arrive," he ordered, pleased when she finally began moving in that direction.

Several minutes later, the ambulance attendants came down the hallway followed by Vince.

"Whatcha got, fellas?" the officer asked, stunned by the amount of blood he saw on the bed. He wasn't surprised when the paramedics didn't respond to his question. It was obvious they were in a battle to save the young woman's life. Moments later, he watched as the pregnant woman was loaded onto the gurney.

Roy followed the patient out while Johnny, with the help of the officer, packed up the medical equipment. The look on the medic's face let Vince know the situation was grim.

"You need me to call in back up to drive the squad in for you, so you can go in with Roy? I know in these cases, you got two patients," Vince acknowledged.

Johnny looked around, making sure that the sister wasn't within hearing range. "Not this time, Vince."

"Damn," the officer cursed. He hated to think about the loss of a child before it even had a chance to enter the world. "Too bad she was alone."

"Alone? She isn't," Johnny responded. "Her sister called it in."

"Where'd she go?" the officer asked.

Johnny exhaled loudly, locking the supply boxes up. "Probably split before you arrived. There's stuff here she wouldn't want you to see."

"Yea, I can smell it," Vince countered. "Is that what caused the problem?"

"More likely it was heroin," Johnny said, standing and gathering up the boxes. "Look under the bed. I'll catch you later, Vince."

E!

Inside the ambulance, Roy continued monitoring the vitals of the young woman. She was extremely pale, and her breathing continued to be shallow and slow. Her body was drenched in perspiration. Roy looked at her and felt a mixture of pity and anger. It was her behavior that had likely caused the demise of her unborn baby, a fact that she didn't even know about yet; however, he had been a medic long enough to know that the draw of opiates was even stronger than the love of a mother for her child.

He immediately thought of Lexi. If she had stolen Joanne's jewelry, was it to buy drugs? Was she caught up in the nightmare of illegal drug use like his patient? At least she had protected Antonio, unlike the scenario that was playing out in front of him now. He reached to check her pulse again, gripping her wrist just as her body arched in a seizure.

E!

Nearly an hour passed before Dixie joined the paramedics in the staff lounge. The look on her face told Roy and Johnny that the young woman had not survived her ordeal.

"Aww, man," Johnny sighed, standing up to add a little more coffee to the cooling java in the cup he had been sipping. "Why, Dixie? Why the hell would she shoot up when she was pregnant?"

The somber-faced nurse sat down at the round table. "It isn't that simple, Johnny. Heroin addiction left her with no choice really."

Johnny turned around, leaning against the counter. "Bullshit! I don't buy it. If she never used in the first place, then she'd never have become an addict."

Dixie looked at the young man with a stern, no nonsense expression. "So, you've got it all figured out, do you? You knew her a few minutes and already you're judging her."

"Just callin' it like I see it," the young medic countered.

"Don't judge until you have all the information, Johnny. I've been treating her for years. Yes, she was a frequent flyer, but usually came in on foot after some customer beat her up. In the early days, she was a 'throw away' kid, just trying to survive on the street. Her family didn't provide a stable home for her or her sister. Social services were notified, but the family kept moving around to stay just ahead of the social workers, so they could stay together, and their mother wouldn't go to jail."

"So, she was hookin' to support her drug habit?" Johnny asked, clearly unmoved.

"No," Dixie countered. "She began using drugs to cope with the things she was forced to do to keep a roof over their heads and a little food on the table. It was survival sex. She didn't have a family that cared about her like we all did. Her situation simply snowballed. We hadn't seen her here in over six months," the nurse said, staring down at her hands. "I didn't even know she was pregnant. I thought she might have moved on or… " Her voice drifted off as she stared into her cup. She knew she probably wasn't making sense to the paramedics, but she really didn't feel like giving the two men any more details of the young woman's sordid life. Her own guilt was overwhelming. What could she have done differently? How could she have intervened to create a different outcome for the woman and her unborn child?

The silence was deafening. All the arguments Johnny had been gearing up to counter what Dixie was saying simply fell flat. She was right. He hadn't known the entire situation and he should've reserved his judgment. "I'm sorry, Dix. I didn't know."

Roy looked over at the exhausted woman. "I owe you an apology, too. I wasn't very nice to you earlier today. I'm sorry for how I acted."

Dixie reached over, gently laying her smaller hand on Roy's larger one. "We all have bad days. I forgive you," she said in her smoky voice.

The group of friends continued in silence before the disembodied voice of the dispatcher sounded on the handie-talkie.

"Squad 51, what's your status?"

Roy clicked on the microphone. "Available."

"Standby for a response."

"Time to roll," he said, standing up. He took his coffee cup to the sink, setting it beside Johnny's before the duo headed out the door as the tones sounded for their next run.

Dixie stared at the growing stack of cups in the sink. "Men!"

E!

The night seemed to fly by as the squad and engine were called out repeatedly. By the time Roy finally backed the squad into the bay after the final run of the shift, Captain Hookraider was standing in the captains' office doorway. The engine crew from A-shift were still out on the last run, leaving Roy with no opportunity to talk to Marco or Mike about the missing pearls. In a way, he was relieved.

"Rough night?" Hookraider asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yea," Roy replied, slamming the door of the squad. "Have your medics made it in yet?"

"Dwyer's here and Bellingham is subbing on this shift, so he should be here soon."

Johnny stepped up beside his partner. "Go ahead and leave, Roy. Dwyer and I can cover if the tones drop before Bob clocks in. You look beat," he said, placing a supportive arm on his friend's shoulder.

"Cap?" Roy asked, looking at the on-coming officer.

"Go ahead. Dwyer's already in uniform."

"Thanks," Roy mumbled, turning towards the locker room.

Johnny headed for the kitchen and the smell of a fresh pot of coffee perking. His mind was still on the young mother they had lost before midnight. He had been making comparisons between their patient and Lexi – and he didn't like the similarities. He had already figured out that Roy was not likely to discuss the missing jewelry with Marco or Mike any time soon. But that didn't mean that he couldn't do it on Roy's behalf. Because of Marco's upcoming nuptials, he had decided that Mike would be the one he would talk to… as soon as he figured out how to approach the subject.

Using the palm of his hand to push open the kitchen door, he greeted the B-shift medic. "Mornin'."

"Hey, Gage… Ugh… bad run?" Dwyer questioned, seeing the fatigue and angst written on Johnny's expressive face.

"Bad runs," Johnny replied, emphasizing the plural. "Long night. Y'all are gonna need to make a supply run to Rampart soon."

"Got it," Dwyer replied, passing the exhausted man a fresh cup of coffee. "Where's DeSoto?"

"Locker room. I told him to go on home and I'd stay with you until Bellingham gets here. He's more tired than I am." He took a sip of the coffee. "Ahh, thanks."

Dwyer pulled out a chair to join Johnny at the kitchen table while various other members of B-shift filtered in. The growing group made small talk until Johnny heard the engine backing into the bay. He got up, nearly bumping into Bellingham as the larger man made his way into the kitchen.

"See ya, Gage," Bob said, shifting to get out of the way of the swiftly moving medic.

"Later, Bob," Johnny called over his shoulder, heading for the locker room. He was determined to have a conversation with his engineer.

Johnny was changing into his street clothes when Marco came through, collected his bag from his locker, and headed for the door. "I'm ready for a few drinks at Cinders, Marco," the medic said, referring to the lineman's bachelor party.

Marco stopped and offered Johnny a smile. "Can't wait… and I appreciate you fellas not pushing me to have the usual bachelor party."

"Hey, no problem, man. We just want to get together and celebrate with you. We're brothers, ya know?"

Marco offered him a grateful smile. He gave a nod of his head just before he left. His shiftmates understood why he hadn't wanted to have a party with a stripper, but they had arranged for the use of the private room at their favorite bar. They would get together for some good food and friendly banter among the shift brothers. It was all he wanted, and it meant so much to him to have the support of his crew. He was about to become a married man, but his sister's odd behavior was once again casting a dark shadow on the Lopez family. What should be the most wonderful week of his life was beginning to feel stressful and he hated that, but he was determined not to let his anxiety show to his beautiful fiancée.

"See ya next shift, John."

"Bye," Johnny replied, pulling on his street clothing. He slowed down his movements, not wanting it to be too obvious that he was hanging around the locker room longer than necessary. Chet had already come and gone for which Johnny was grateful. The medic could hear Mike talking to the oncoming engineer and knew that he would be in the locker room shortly. Johnny sat down on the bench in front of his locker, leaving his shoes untied. At least he could pretend to be in the final phases of getting dressed when his engineer walked in.

Momentarily, Mike pushed through the locker room door, nodding to Johnny who was tying his shoes. "Tough shift," the engineer commented.

"Yea… uh, how 'bout breakfast?" Johnny asked.

Mike looked at him quizzically. All the men of A-shift were close, but he wasn't Johnny's usual breakfast guest. "Roy gone already?"

"Yea… he's having a rough time at home. I was hoping to talk to you privately about it, if you don't mind."

"No more recipes, John," Mike stated flatly.

Johnny held up both hands. "No way… I ain't askin' for any recipes. I learned my lesson last time."

"Okay, why don't you come over to my place. I can make us some toast and eggs and we can talk privately," Mike said. Truthfully, he also wanted to see what kind of job Lexi had done on cleaning his apartment, too. He had taken a risk for her and he hoped he hadn't made a mistake. His curiosity was killing him – about the job Lexi had done and now about the issue Johnny was talking about.

"Sure, sounds good. Got any milk?"

Mike snickered, knowing how much Johnny enjoyed that particular beverage. "I don't think so."

"Okay, I'll pick some up on the way. Need anything else? Juice? Bacon?"

"Bacon sounds good," Mike said, closing the door to his locker.

"Well, a'right… See ya in a few," Johnny said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

E!

In short order, Johnny was walking up the stairs to Mike's apartment. He was exhausted, but his anxiety kept him shifting from one foot to the other as he rapped on the door and waited for the invitation to enter.

"It's open," Mike called out, recognizing Johnny's knock.

With a pound of bacon in one hand and a carton of milk in the other, Johnny entered the apartment. He inhaled deeply, appreciating the lemony scent. "Nice."

"I had maid service," Mike stated, deliberately leaving off the identity of the housekeeper.

"Big spender, huh?" Johnny joked. "Engineers make more money than us paramedics. I couldn't afford a housekeeping service," he added with his signature grin. He set the bacon down on the counter beside the stove where Mike had already placed a frying pan.

Johnny opened a cabinet and removed a glass. "Wanna glass o' milk?"

Mike cut a glance at his friend then returned his attention to cooking breakfast. "I think I'll stick with OJ."

"Gotcha."

An awkward silence ensued while Johnny prepared toast and Mike fried up the bacon and scrambled the eggs. Mike's mind was still reeling from the discovery that Lexi had only cleaned his apartment; she hadn't taken anything but the folded money he had left for her in his foyer. But Johnny's mind was busy trying to decide how to bring up the subject of Joanne's missing pearls.

Mike plated the food, dividing the bacon and eggs onto the two plates. Johnny added two slices of toast onto each plate and the men each grabbed a plate of food and their chosen beverage, then headed for Mike's breakfast nook.

Johnny devoured his meal while Mike ate his more slowly, sipping his coffee. "So… What's going on with DeSoto?" he asked, placing a lump of scrambled eggs on the edge of his toast before eating it.

Johnny gulped the rest of his milk, using his napkin to remove the remnants from the corners of his mouth. "Well… I prob'ly should be talkin' to Marco about this but… with his weddin' comin' up and all… I jus'."

"Just say it, Gage," Mike said, interrupting the medic's rambling.

"Okay… It's about Lexi."

Mike felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and it surprised him. Why was he getting defensive about Marco's sister? It wasn't like they were in a relationship any more. "And?"

"And…" Johnny felt his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. "I think she might've stolen jewelry from Joanne at my party." There. He'd said it. He instinctively backed away from the table as though he thought his engineer might belt him.

Mike sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "What makes you think that?"

"Joanne's grandmother's pearls are missing. Lexi was the only one who went into their bedroom that night."

"And the pearls were there before the party and gone after?" Mike questioned, hoping to find a flaw in the story but knowing there wasn't likely to be one. He already knew Lexi had a penchant for stealing – she had stolen from him before… although she hadn't stolen from him while cleaning his apartment yesterday. Was that because she had taken Joanne's heirloom jewelry?

"Well… yea… I mean, it's not like they were out in the open, but Jo remembers putting them up after she wore them the last time and then when she looked for them a couple o' days ago, they were gone."

Mike felt like he was going to throw up. He stared at Johnny, seeing the sincerity in the other man's features. He knew that Johnny was uncomfortable discussing this which could only mean one thing… He and Roy had reviewed every other scenario and Lexi was the only possible person to have stolen them.

"Did Roy send you over here to talk to me about this?"

"No… He didn't want to talk about it at all, but-"

"But he thinks Lexi took them too?" Mike asked.

Johnny looked away and offered a slight nod.

"Damn it," Mike cursed, dropping his napkin onto his plate. "What do you want me to do?"

Johnny pondered the question. He really had no idea what he wanted Mike to do. "I jus'… was wonderin' if you thought maybe she had taken them. Have you seen her wearing new pearls or anything?"

"No, but I really haven't spent much time with her lately. Besides, I don't think she'd wear them. Everyone knows that she can't afford them. She's doing everything she can to earn money right now to pay off some debt she says she has."

"Ugh," Johnny groaned. "So, if she did take 'em… she's pro'bly sold 'em on the street or at a pawn shop."

Mike didn't respond. He merely sat there staring at the same spot on his table. "Roy knows you're here?"

Johnny raised his eyebrows. "Hmm? Oh… no."

"What's he planning on doing about this?"

Johnny leaned his elbows on the table. "He doesn't know what to do, Mike. He doesn't want to upset our team at the station, but he also wants to have a happy home. He's stuck."

"And Joanne?"

Johnny tapped his fingers on the table. "Not sure. I haven't talked to her, but Roy told me that Joanne doesn't want him to ask Marco about it because of the weddin'. It's just a big ol' mess."

"Mmhmm," Mike grunted. "Let me think on it. I'll figure something out, John."

"Thanks, Pal. I know this is some heavy shit, but… I didn't know who else to talk to. I jus'… I had to do somethin'."

The two men dropped the conversation and set about cleaning up the dishes. As soon as the kitchen was tidied up, Johnny left the apartment and headed home. He wasn't sure if he had made the situation better or worse. Now he had to focus on Marco's bachelor party and how the present state of events might affect Roy's relationship with Marco.

By the time Mike had showered and prepared to try to get a few hours of sleep, he heard a familiar knock on his front door. "Ah, hell," he muttered to himself. He pulled on an old pair of sweat pants and walked to his front door. He blew out a cleansing breath, then opened the door. "Hey, Lexi."

"Hi," the young woman said, waiting for an invitation to enter the apartment.

Mike stepped aside, silently inviting her in. "Are you working here today?"

"Um, yea… Ms. Higginbottom asked me to help her clean a vacant apartment and get it ready to show," she explained, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. "I just wanted to check in with you and see if you were satisfied with the job I did yesterday," she said, nervously biting her lip.

"Yes, I think you did a really fine job."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "I didn't feel comfortable asking anyone else. I knew you'd tell me the truth. If you're happy then maybe the others will be too."

"I'm sure they're happy. How many clients do you have?" He asked, concerned about her possibly taking something from one of his neighbors.

"I've got three so far. I did yours and apartment C-4 yesterday. Then I've got the vacant one this morning and A-6 this afternoon. Maybe I'll get a few more."

"Good… That's good."

"Well, I guess I better get going. I just wanted to make sure you were happy with my work," she said, backing up toward the door. Something was off with Mike, but she chalked it up to a busy shift. "I'll see you later."

"Later."

After she left, Mike returned to his bedroom and laid down on his bed, but he knew sleep was going to be elusive. Would Lexi really steal heirloom jewelry from Joanne DeSoto? Or was she just a convenient scapegoat for misplaced pearls?

E!

Joanne tiptoed into the master bedroom, trying not to awaken her husband. He had been exhausted when he had gotten home from the station and had been sleeping most of the day. She had almost removed all of the dirty clothes from the hamper when she heard him begin to stir.

"I'm sorry... did I wake you?"

Roy stretched his arms over his head, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed. It took a few moments for him to clear the sleep from his brain. "No… I shouldn't have slept this long anyway. I want to be able to sleep tonight since it's our quick turnaround; twenty-four hours off isn't much." He pushed himself off the bed, heading to their bathroom. When he returned to the bedroom, he saw his wife still standing in the same place, staring at her jewelry box.

"Honey, I have an idea," she said, propping the laundry basket on one hip.

"About?"

"My pearls."

Roy felt his stomach flip. "What's the idea?"

"You know that the ladies have a bridal shower planned for Beverly while you men are taking Marco out."

"Yea… and?"

Joanne hesitated for a moment, then set the basket down on their bed before continuing their conversation. "What if I mention my missing pearls and then say that we're going to report it to the police and ask them to dust for fingerprints?"

"I thought you didn't want to file a police report?"

Joanne sat down on the edge of the bed, grateful when Roy sat down beside her, pulling her into a sideways hug. "I don't, but since Lexi will be there, I can see how she reacts when I say that… At least it might help me figure out if she's guilty of taking them."

"Jo," he crooned, kissing her lightly on top of her head. "I know you want to see the best in everyone, but you and I both know she's guilty. No one else had the opportunity or the motive."

Joanne snorted. "You need to quit watching all those Adam-12 episodes. You're starting to sound like Reed and Malloy."

"Well… am I right?"

She sighed, resuming her laundry duties. "Of course, you are… but I think this might just be what it takes to confirm it to me. I just need to see how she reacts."

"And if she acts suspicious?"

She picked up the basket and headed for the door. "I don't know… I haven't thought that far ahead."

"Just be careful, babe. I don't want to stir up anything before the wedding."

"And I don't want my grandmother's pearls ending up in some pawn shop in East LA," she countered, heading down the hallway before he could respond.

Roy stood up with a loud exhale. "I just hope they aren't already there," he mumbled to himself, remembering his conversation with Johnny at the station.

E!

The following morning, Mike stood beside the engine, repeatedly polishing the same spot on the officer's door. Johnny pushed through the dorm room door and stopped.

"You're gonna rub the paint off, man," he said, propping one hand on his hip.

"Mmm?"

Johnny reached over, removing the cloth from the engineer's hand. "I said… You're gonna rub the paint off. You've been polishing that door for twenty minutes."

"Oh," Mike replied, standing up to his full height. "Guess my mind was somewhere else."

"Yea… Like on Lexi and the pearls?"

Mike released a short huff. "The way you say her name, it sounds like a new rock band."

"Yea, well… I wish it was." Johnny cut his dark eyes in both directions before leaning in closer and lowering his voice. "Look, we've got another problem."

"What?"

"Roy said that Jo is gonna bring it up at Beverly's bridal shower tomorrow night."

Mike's blue eyes widened. "You mean she's going to confront Lexi?"

"Not exactly, just make a general comment to see how Lexi reacts. He told her it wasn't a good idea, but when Jo makes up her mind about somethin'… nothin's gonna stop her."

"I need to talk to her."

Johnny's head immediately began to shake. "No… No, I don't think that's a good idea."

Mike rolled his eyes. "Not Joanne. I need to talk to Lexi… It'll be better if I talk to her than for her to hear it from Jo at a hen party!" He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the engine. "I'll give her a call tonight."

E!

Lexi kissed Antonio on his forehead, pulling his blanket up underneath his chin. "I love you, Ant."

"I love you, too, Momma," he whispered amid a yawn. "G'night," he mumbled, curling onto his side.

"Good night," she replied, reaching to turn off his bedside lamp. She sat for a long moment staring at his sleeping face in the dim light from his nightlight. He was such a beautiful child. She didn't deserve him. Most of all, he didn't deserve her… He deserved so much better. He was the one thing she had done right in her life; she just hoped that one day he would find it in his heart to forgive her for what she had done… and what she was about to do. It would hurt him at first, but she really didn't have a choice. She knew in her heart that she was doing it for him.

She wiped away the tear that was rolling down the side of her nose, then stood up and walked out the door. She had to get started writing the letters, her explanation to everyone in her life… her apologies.

Just as she reached her bedroom door, the telephone rang. It was after nine o'clock and she knew that Marco was on duty. Her heart leaped into her throat as she quickly picked up the telephone before it woke her son.

"Hello?"

"Lexi, hi… I'm sorry for calling so late."

"Michael? Is something wrong with Marco?" she asked, trying to stop her heart from slamming around inside her chest.

"No, no… Nothing like that. I'm sorry; I guess I should've led with that. Uh," Mike hesitated, looking around inside the dorm to ensure once more that he was alone. He didn't need Roy to overhear his conversation and Johnny had agreed to keep his partner occupied in a card game until lights out. "Listen, I need to let you know something."

"Okay… W-what's up?" Lexi stammered, concerned that her job may be in jeopardy. She was making more money cleaning apartments than she had thought she would which meant that her plan was coming together much faster than expected.

"Well, I just wanted to give you a heads up on something. See, Joanne DeSoto had some jewelry stolen from her house the other day and-"

"And she thinks I did it, right?" Lexi broke in, feeling a mixture of fear and anger. She knew she was guilty, but she had to get the focus off her herself – a tactic she had learned a long time ago.

"I didn't say that!"

"Well, does she?" she asked, taking the phone into her bedroom and closing the door. She didn't want her mother to overhear the conversation.

"Did you?" Mike asked, having grown accustomed to her deflection. He knew how to redirect her.

"Hell, no and you know it, too, Michael. How dare you accuse me of this?"

"I didn't accuse you, Lexi. I called you because I know you used their bathroom during Johnny's party and when the cops go over there to dust for fingerprints, yours might be there. Since you've been arrested in the past, your prints will show up in the system and I wanted to go ahead and warn you of that. I didn't want you to get upset when the police show up at your house, you know?" Mike knew he had struck a nerve, and even though he had no idea if the DeSotos' might file a police report, if Lexi was guilty, maybe his comments might be enough to get her to return the stolen jewelry. His comments were met by total silence. "Lexi?"

"I'm here… I'm just… My past will never be truly in my past, you know?" She sniffled, realizing what a mistake she had made. She quietly opened the drawer of her desk, pulling out the trinket box. Opening it, she ran her fingers over the pearls. With the money she was making now, she wouldn't have to pawn the stolen jewelry, but how was she going to get them back to Joanne without getting into trouble? She couldn't afford to go to jail – not when she was this close to accomplishing her goal.

"Sure, it will, Lex; just give it more time."

"Look, I might know who stole the pearls, but no one will believe me," she whispered, baiting him.

"I never said the items stolen were pearls," Mike said, trying hard to keep the disappointment out of his voice. She had just inadvertently confirmed her guilt.

"Yes, you did," she countered, angry at herself for slipping up.

"No… I didn't… but the jewelry taken happened to be Joanne's grandmother's pearls… How'd you know that?"

"Like I said… I might know who took them… I'm not the only one with a past, you know."

Mike rubbed his forehead in frustration. "Who?"

"I'm not going to rat her out, but… Just let Roy know that I'll do my best to get Joanne's pearls back to her, if they promise not to ask any questions, alright?"

"So, you DID take them?"

Lexi felt like she was being interrogated by the cops. "I've already answered that question, but I can't tell you how much it hurts me that you think I did. I told you… I might know who did it and, I'll get them back." She inhaled a deep breath, despising what she was about to say. "But I see now how you really feel about me."

"Wait, Lexi… Listen… Just… If you can get them back, why don't you leave them in my apartment… You know where the key is if I'm not at home… Just leave them in the bowl in the foyer, no questions asked… okay?"

She felt her throat constrict, her voice cracking. "I picked up a new client. I'll be over there tomorrow. I'll do my best… I'm not sure if I can talk her into it but… If I can get them back from her… then I'll bring them over when I go to work tomorrow."

"You're doing the right thing, Lexi… Everything will be okay… you'll see," he said softly, hearing her sniffle on the other end of the line before she hung up. He was disappointed in her for this behavior, but thankful that he might be able to get Joanne's jewelry back to her soon. Yet, he felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. He heard the dorm door open.

"He's in the shower."

Mike turned around, seeing the questioning look on Johnny's face. He shook his head, looking down at the floor. "She did it, John."

"Damn it," the other man grimaced, running an anxious finger beneath his nose. "She admitted it?"

"Kind of… Said she MIGHT know who took the pearls… But all I said was jewelry. I never said what kind of jewelry. So… It had to be her." Mike stood up, pushing the rolling chair back beneath the desk. I think she's bringing them to me in the morning when she comes to clean for a new client, but… Now I've got another problem."

Johnny looked at him, knitting his eyebrows together.

"I can't let a thief keep working for my landlady."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Lexi rolled the pearl necklace between her index finger and thumb, appreciating the feel of the fine jewels against her fingertips. She quickly dropped them back inside her small crossbody purse that was hidden beneath her sweater, then took a seat at the bus stop. The sun was just beginning to rise, but the light mist from the early morning fog brushing against her face sent a chill down her spine. Or was it the dread of what she was about to do?

She rested her back against the black metal bench, glancing to her left to look down the street. She had left her mother a note explaining that she had a client who worked the nightshift and she wanted to clean his apartment early so she would be home in time for Beverly's bridal shower. She always hated lying to her mother; no matter how often she did it, it never got any easier. She had been trying to think of another way out of the dilemma she was in, but she always came back to the same conclusion – what she was about to do was the only way to ensure the safety of those whom she loved the most. This was the only way, her only choice.

Watching the early morning traffic driving past her in the dimness of a new day brought back so many memories, none of them good. She tasted the bile rising in the back of her throat and swallowed hard to force it back down. Finally, she heard the chugging of the city bus making the turn onto her street. The squelching sound of the worn-out brakes combining with the smell of diesel fuel sent her mind reeling back to the days when she was returning to her apartment with a small bundle of cash for a night's work – most of which she would have to give to her pimp, Ricardo. She stood up as the bus doors opened, her mouth going dry and her stomach lurching as the memories flooded her mind and body. She instinctively crossed her arms, allowing her to secretly secure her purse a little tighter, then stepped on board.

The bus held only a few passengers, none of whom made eye contact with her. She dropped her coins into the box and took a seat beside a window. As the bus pulled back into the early morning traffic, she leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. Soon it would all be over.

As the bus lumbered down the streets, the buildings became more dilapidated; the streets contained more potholes, and the sidewalks began to fill with people marginalized by society. There were a few homeless men lying on benches, drunkards staggering between buildings, and prostitutes congregated at busy intersections. It was an area familiar to her.

When the bus made a stop near a 24-hour liquor store, she exited and headed for the back door of a nearby tattoo shop. What she needed could be purchased here – but only with cash or trade. She just hoped she had enough in her purse to make the exchange.

E!

Inside the seedy tattoo shop, the artist hung the closed sign between the burglar bars on the glass front door of his establishment. He normally used the hours between dawn and noon to catch up on his sleep. Mid-week tended to be a slow time for his craft, but the previous shift had been unusually busy for the portion of his enterprise that was a legitimate business. But it was the backroom deals that filled his pockets with cash and an assortment of other items of value. He was peeling off his black sleeveless tee shirt, the one that allowed him to show off the skull and crossbones tattoo that covered his muscular left bicep, when he heard the signal – two sets of three swift knocks on the backdoor, the entrance to the area he had turned into a studio apartment.

Quickly, he pulled the tee shirt back over his head, using one hand to scoop his shaggy dark curls from inside the shirt collar and allowed them to fall back down along his shoulders. He took a quick glimpse of his image in the wall mirror, taking the time to wax his handlebar mustache with his thick fingers, then opened the back door.

He used his large physique to block the entrance, propping his forearm against the doorframe. He needed to maintain his reputation as a rough and rowdy man who never picked a fight, but had ended plenty of them, sending more than one aggressor to the city morgue. No jury had ever convicted him of being guilty of anything other than self-defense.

He squinted down at the dark-haired waif standing before him with a hint of recognition in his eyes.

"Yea… What can I do for ya?"

Lexi gulped at the sound of the gruff voice, her heart feeling like it was tap dancing inside her chest. "Bones? It's me… Alexandria."

The man whose dark assortment of tattoos left no doubt as to the origin of his nickname, allowed a grin to sneak up on the right side of his face, revealing a shiny gold cap where his incisor was once located, a casualty of a bar fight many years before. He knitted his eyebrows together. "LaRue?"

"Yea… I… I need a favor."

The giant of a man looked down both sides of the back ally, needing to convince himself that she was alone. "Thought you got killed or somethin'."

"Must have been the 'or something'… 'cause I ain't dead," Lexi replied.

"So, I see," he retorted, eyeing her suspiciously. "You go rogue?" He asked, again using his dark eyes to scan the alley. He knew that if she was working without a pimp, she could be in great danger.

"Kind of," she spoke up, pulling her sweater tighter around her shoulders. "May I come in? I swear, I'm alone."

The hulking man stepped aside, silently inviting her inside and quickly locking the door behind him. "You wired?" he asked, turning on the bright overhead light.

Lexi had anticipated the question. She quickly stripped off her sweater and Boho-style olive green blouse. She turned around slowly, allowing him to scan her clad in only her bra from the waist up.

"A'right," he replied, satisfied that she was being honest with him. He quickly extinguished the fluorescent lighting and turned on a couple of lamps, preferring the dimly lit room as it better suited his personality and mood. He waved an arm towards the small wooden table with a couple of mismatched chairs. "Have a seat and tell me what's goin' on."

Reaching for her clothing and purse, her hand was quickly gripped tight to stop her movement.

"Nu-uh… I prefer this view," he said, running the back of his stubby fingers down the silky skin of her bare upper arm.

Lexi shivered, but maintained her composure. "Ahem," she cleared her throat, trying to take a seat at the chair nearest her only point of egress from the dingy room. The chair was quickly jerked away from her, leaving her with no choice but to sit in a position that allowed him to use his body to block the exit. She swallowed hard. She could do this. "Um… You know that Ricardo is in jail, right?"

Bones reached for a hand-rolled cigarette, retrieving a lighter from a basket in the center of the table. He flicked the metal lighter, an orange flame glowing tall in front of his face. He inhaled a deep drag, puffing out a smoke ring that drifted like a ghost across the table between the two of them. Clicking the lighter closed, he tossed it back into place, drawing another drag from the unfiltered cigarette before resting it between his fingers.

"Yea… I heard you was the one that got 'im locked up… Any truth to that?"

"Some," the nervous young woman replied. "I didn't mean to… I mean, I didn't set 'im up or nothin' like that," she replied, easily slipping back into her street accent.

"Hey, ain't no skin off my ass, ya know?" He said, continuing to stare at her small perky bosom. She was nervous and he liked it. He could tell she was breathing rapidly. "He's a cocky son'bitch," he laughed, lifting the cigarette to his mouth again. "Smoke?" he asked.

"Um, no thanks. I, uh… Anyway, he's gettin' out in a few weeks and," Lexi looked away from him, hating the way his eyes were undressing her even further. "Well… he says I gotta pay a ransom to get back in the stable."

Bones grinned wickedly. "Is that why you out workin' rogue?"

"I actually found a legit job," Lexi began, but quickly tamped down her pride. "It just don't pay enough for me to pay my ransom once he gets out. I mean, I don't have 'nough time to make the money I need so…"

Bones snuffed out the remainder of the cigarette. "What do ya need from me?"

"Protection."

"Protection?" He asked, a snicker escaping from his chapped lips. "You know I ain't in that part of the business."

"I know," Lexi replied. "I want to work solo until he gets out. That way I can keep all the money, but there's too many men out there lookin' to add another girl. I ain't wantin' to choose up. I just want to work alone between now and when Ricardo gets out so I can pay him the money to get my place back."

Bones leaned his forearms on the table, moving his face closer to hers. "You needin' a piece?"

Lexi relaxed a little, knowing that he understood what she needed. "Yes, something small so I can keep it in my purse but big enough to get me out of a jam, if needed."

Bones pressed his lips together tightly. "You need a small weapon with the serial number filed off. Somethin' that you can keep loaded at all times."

"Yes… exactly. You got anything like that?"

He leaned back in his seat, realizing that he had what she needed… and she had what he wanted. "Cash or trade?"

"Depends on how much," she replied, watching him lick his lips.

"I see… You goin' by Ric's street name for ya, or do ya need a fresh ID, too?" His mind was reeling. He knew exactly what she needed to stay somewhat safe and have a chance against the vice cops that worked these sordid streets. He also knew that his price was rising. And her desperation was having quite an effect on his lower anatomy.

"I need another name. Pigs know the LaRue name and that I'm s'posed to be dead… I'll need somethin' new."

"It'll cost ya, but I can hook ya up."

Lexi thought about the $180 dollars she carried in her purse. She had wanted to go by Mike's apartment first to drop off the pearls, but she had been too afraid that the money she had saved wouldn't be enough to get her what she needed. She only had three weeks left to make this work. The pearls were her guarantee to get what she needed.

"How much?"

Bones looked at her. "How much is Ric's ransom?"

"$300."

"Do you got that much in that little purse of yours?" he asked, knowing she probably didn't.

"That's why I need to get back out there," she explained, skillfully dodging his question. "I don't have that much saved up yet, and I'm runnin' out o' time."

"Nah… With what you got to offer, you can make that in no time," he grinned again, knowing he was making her feel uneasy.

"I know… but I can't go back out there without some kind o' protection and I can't let Ricardo down… He'll…"

"Oh, I know what he'll do," Bones spoke up, opening the pouch of tobacco and rolling papers. "Hell… he's hired me to do it for him a few times… It gets uuugggly if you don't pay up."

"I know… And I want to pay up… So… that's what brings me here."

"I can get ya a decent piece that the cops can't trace. That also means it can't get traced back to me. If ya get in a bind… just throw it down. Your fingerprints are on record so if ya get caught, that's jus' your tough luck, understood?"

She nodded her head.

"Now, I got a few student IDs from New Mexico State that'll work for ya. That'll cost extra, but it'll give ya a clean record if ya get arrested and they run your ID." He stood up, heading for a desk with a library card catalog box on top. He quickly thumbed through the cards until he pulled out two white paper cards that had been laminated. "You want short hair or long?"

"Doesn't matter," she replied, uncaringly.

He pulled the first card, tossing the identification onto the table in front of her. "You are now Gabriella Gomez," he laughed. "Ironic, don't ya think?"

Lexi picked up her new identity, staring at the pretty face that looked back at her. "No other last name?"

"Hey, Ric will love it that you took his last name as your new street name," he laughed, then pulled his keyring off a hook on the wall. He stared back at her. "Stay put."

Lexi stared at the student identification, determined to commit her new demographic information to memory. She heard the clanking sounds of locks and doors. His heavy footfalls announced his return several steps before he entered the room. He gently set down a small box of bullets and a small revolver.

"$225."

Lexi gulped back the dread that had been crowding her like a shadow. "I… don't have that much."

"C'mon… I know you came here prepared to get what you need. Now… what do ya say?"

E!

Mike slipped his key into the lock of his apartment door and gently turned it. His mind had been reeling since leaving the station. Had Lexi returned the pearls? His anxiety level had risen with each step he had taken to his second-floor apartment. As soon as he entered, his eyes went immediately to the bowl in the foyer and his heart sank. It was empty.

"Damn it, Lex," he cursed, closing and locking the door behind him.

His heart ached for the missed opportunity. He had been hoping he would be able to call Roy and let him know that Joanne's grandmother's pearls were in his possession. Now he feared that Joanne would confront Lexi at the bridal shower later this afternoon. If that happened, then the shower, the bachelor party, and the wedding may all be tainted by anger and mistrust. Why, he wondered, hadn't she returned the pearls? He had no doubt she had them.

Mike ran his hand down his face, grimacing at the stubble growing along his lower jaw. He carried his duffle bag to his bedroom, emptying it into his clothes hamper. He quickly stripped off his street clothes and headed for the shower. Although the previous shift had not been especially busy, he needed to let the hot water run over his shoulders to release the tense muscles.

Half an hour later, he was cleaning up his breakfast dishes. He hadn't been particularly hungry. He scraped the scrambled eggs into his garbage can, then returned the dishes to the sink. He ran hot water into the sink with a few drops of dishwashing liquid. He stared at the bubbles that began to form. He hated being caught between the proverbial rock and hard place, which left him with no choice but to betray someone he cared for deeply. If he allowed Lexi to continue working as a housekeeper for his landlady, then he was betraying Ms. Higginbottom's trust. But if he alerted her to Lexi's recent behavior, then he was betraying the trust he had worked so hard to build with Lexi. He was truly in a no-win situation. Turning off the water, he released a deep sigh. It was Lexi who had ultimately left him with no choice. Being a man of integrity helped him make his decision easily. He had to do the right thing.

He dried off his hands on a paper towel, then headed for the door. He needed to talk to Ms. Higginbottom.

E!

Lexi stepped off the bus a block from Mike's apartment complex. She still felt nauseous, but she had an apartment to clean before she could head home. At least that part of the note she had left her mother was the truth. As she rounded the corner to enter the complex, she saw Mike talking to Ms. Higginbottom. She hesitated for a moment, feeling a sense of relief when he stepped inside the older woman's apartment. She quickly made her way to her destination, thankful to have avoided a confrontation with him.

Inside the manager's apartment, Mike felt his head begin to throb as he relayed what he knew to Ms. Higginbottom.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am. I mean, she hasn't admitted to the theft, but no one else had the opportunity," he explained. He didn't elaborate on Lexi's past. To him, it was irrelevant to the situation.

Ms. Higginbottom began to tap her fingers on the armrest of her chair, obviously trying to decide on her next course of action. "I thought she was being paid a fair wage for her services. I don't understand why she would steal."

Mike pressed his lips into a thin line, never responding to her statement.

"Well, if you're sure she's guilty, then I don't have a choice but to let her go, do I?"

The engineer felt his stomach tighten. He knew that if Lexi lost her job, it would only hasten her downward spiral. "I don't know what to tell you, Ms. Higginbottom."

"Well, I guess you've told me enough." The older woman pushed her graying hair off her forehead. "I guess I'll have a talk with her. She should be finishing up at Mr. Trione's apartment," she added, reaching for her address book and thumbing through her tenant phone number list. She looked back at her young friend, seeing the anguish on his handsome features. "I appreciate you bringing this to my attention, Mike. I know it must've been difficult for you."

"Yes, ma'am." He stood up, feeling like he had just sentenced Lexi to her doom. "I guess I'd better go. I need to pick up my dress uniform for my friend's wedding tomorrow, and I have a few other errands to run before all the stores close for Thanksgiving."

Mike slowly walked out of his landlady's apartment and headed for his truck. How was he going to explain this to Marco? The man didn't even know that his sister had stolen Joanne's heirloom jewelry. He just hoped he could keep his lineman from finding out the truth until after the wedding. Marco deserved happiness, and his sister had caused nothing but heartache over the last five years. Perhaps everyone would have been better off if he had never rescued her. He walked into his apartment regretting having that thought. Had he never gotten Lexi off the streets, then Marco and Beverly would never have met. At least something good had come out of this situation… but then again, without Lexi, Joanne would still have her pearls.

It was noon before Mike finally made his way back to his apartment. He carried his dress uniform over his shoulder and had a pocket full of money. The A-shift from Station 51 had decided to take up a collection for Marco and Beverly – a financial gift to ensure they had a very nice honeymoon. Although only the A-shift would be gathering with the groom tonight, the other two shifts and several men from other stations who had previously worked with Marco had all joined in on the gift. Mike had been tasked with collecting the donations to be presented to Marco tonight. It had taken longer than he had anticipated.

He closed the door behind him, tossing his keys into the bowl in his foyer as was his common practice, but an unexpected sight made him nearly drop his uniform. He quickly tossed the garment across the back of his recliner to free up his hands to examine the contents of the bowl – a long string of pearls with matching dangle earrings.

"Well, I'll be damned," Mike cursed.

Then a sinking feeling formed in the pit of his stomach. He had already alerted Ms. Higginbottom to Lexi's nefarious behavior. Was it too late to try to stop her from firing Lexi?

He rushed to his phone and quickly dialed his landlady's number, whispering to himself. "C'mon… pick it up." He was afraid that she had left her apartment to search the complex for her wayward housekeeper. He was about to hang up when he heard her answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"I'm so glad I caught you, Ms. Higginbottom. I wanted to let you know that the missing jewelry has been found," he blurted out. He was careful not to deny Lexi's guilt, hoping that Ms. Higginbottom would simply infer that the jewelry had been misplaced by the owner.

"Oh…"

Mike caught the hesitation in her voice and wondered if she was still considering firing Lexi. "Ms. Higginbottom… is everything okay?"

"Ahem," the woman cleared her throat. "Thank you for letting me know. I appreciate your honesty."

Before he could ask about her plans for Lexi, he heard Ms. Higginbottom hang up, leaving him feeling like he had done something wrong. Lexi had returned the stolen jewelry, but what was going to become of her job? He had hoped that Ms. Higginbottom might be willing to give her another chance, but the telephone conversation left him thinking otherwise.

He didn't have time to contemplate the odd conversation with Ms. Higginbottom. He had to inform Roy and Joanne that the stolen pearls had been returned.

Inside Ms. Higginbottom's apartment, the older woman looked at her young housekeeper with sorrowful eyes. A few minutes before Mike's phone call, she had seen Lexi carrying a small bag of garbage to the dumpster. She had motioned for Lexi to come inside her apartment, not wanting a confrontation in the courtyard where residents might overhear them. Now, Lexi stood with her head hanging down, her eyes downcast.

Ms. Higginbottom could tell by the look on Lexi's face, that she had recognized Mike's voice. "I never meant for you to overhear that conversation, Lexi. I hadn't planned on telling you who had filed the complaint."

Lexi stood stoically, feeling as if her life was unravelling in a way she had never expected. She silently berated herself… not for taking that which did not belong to her. Instead, she gritted her teeth together. How could she have been so careless as to trust a man? She had been so determined to return the pearls, that when Bones had suggested a trade in exchange for the balance of what she owed for her weapon and new ID, she had actually taken him up on the offer, trading what little dignity she had left instead of the pearls.

She rubbed the bruise that had formed on her right wrist. Bones had been rough, but she had expected that. Once the transaction was completed, she had nearly vomited. But it was over now. On the other hand, Mike had told her where to leave the jewelry and he would take care of the situation with the DeSotos with no questions asked. Instead, he had rushed to judge her and do what he could to destroy her. At one time, she had considered Mike to be as kind and trustworthy as her own eldest brother. But now she knew the truth. She couldn't trust him. So, was there anyone in whom she could place her faith? The answer shot through her like a bolt of lightning. There were only two people she knew she could count on for her future… herself, and Gabriella Gomez.

"I'm sorry this didn't work out, Ms. Higginbottom."

"Nonsense, dear," the older woman replied. "I think this was all just a big misunderstanding. You do good work, Lexi. I'd like for you to stay on."

"Really?"

"Of course. Let's just forget this conversation ever happened, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you." Lexi nodded her agreement with a smile, her face in stark contrast to the coldness she was feeling in her heart. She didn't bother telling her employer that she would only be available a few more weeks. It didn't matter. She had learned a long time ago that she was nothing more than a commodity – disposable and easily replaced.

E!

It was early afternoon when Joanne pulled her station wagon up to the curb in front of the Lopez residence. She shifted into park but sat staring at the older two-story home for a moment. She was stillreeling with the news that her pearls had been returned, so much so that she had insisted on Roy going to Mike's apartment to retrieve them immediately.

Now she sat staring at the home of the young woman she knew had violated her private space. How was she going to react to seeing Lexi for the first time since the theft?

"C'mon, Joanne," she mumbled to herself, grabbing her gift and shouldering her purse. "This is all about Beverly, not Lexi." Then she hesitated, lowering the gift back to the seat and opening up her purse. She had promised Roy that she wouldn't create a seen at the shower by confronting Lexi… but she hadn't promised him anything else. She quickly removed her gold hoop earrings, setting them in the empty ashtray beneath the car radio. Quickly, she removed her precious pearl earrings from her purse and put them on. She was still very angry and hurt by Lexi's actions. In some small way, flaunting the jewelry in front of the other woman felt like vindication.

She was greeted on the front porch by Bri, the younger woman was all smiles.

"Hi, Joanne. It's so nice to see you again," Bri said, opening the front door.

The smell of fresh bread baking along with a mixture of various sweet, spicy, and fruity smells wafted from the kitchen. The living room was decorated with yellow and white paper wedding bells, streamers, and flowers. The kitchen table had been moved into the living room and was covered with a white tablecloth. There was a fruit platter, various sandwiches, dips and tortilla chips, among other food items. A punch bowl contained a yellow fruit punch accented with an ice ring full of fruit.

Joanne added her gift to the others that were on the coffee table. "This is all so beautiful," she told the house matriarch and hostess of the shower.

"Thank you, Joanne," Maria replied with a huge smile on her face. "We'll leave the decorations up for tomorrow. All we'll need to do in the morning is set up the chairs in the backyard and add flowers to the arbor."

Lily and Iris smiled at each other, but it was Iris who spoke up. "They're ready to go. We're going to stop by the shop on our way here early tomorrow morning and pick them up. They need to stay in the refrigerator overnight."

"And I'll be here early to help," Jo replied.

"I'll be here, too," Bri added.

Caroline poured herself a cup of punch. "Well, I can't promise I'll be here early. Once I get Corrie dressed, I don't want her to get dirty. We'll probably be showing up just in time," she chuckled.

Lexi overheard the conversation as she came walking down the stairs. It had taken her nearly an hour to clean up from work and to get Antonio down for a nap. "I know what you mean, Caroline. It'll be a chore to keep Antonio clean, too."

"Those two will be the main attraction of the wedding," Beverly chuckled, her face glowing with happiness as she took the seat nearest the display of gifts.

Joanne tasted bile in the back of her throat at the sound of Lexi's voice. How could she behave as though nothing had happened? She nodded her agreement to Beverly, then moved toward the food table and began preparing a plate. She had to do something to keep her mouth busy so that she didn't say something she might regret later. With her plate in one hand and punch in the other, she found a seat strategically located directly across from where Lexi was sitting. Resting her plate on her lap, she used her free hand to curl her hair behind her ear, intentionally exposing her earring.

Lexi caught a glimpse of the earring Joanne was wearing and gulped. She could tell by the way the other woman was staring at her that she knew Lexi was the one who had taken – and returned – the stolen property. She quickly looked away, pretending to watch as Beverly began opening her gifts. She had mastered the art of the proverbial poker face. She could easily make her face unreadable by even the best psychotherapists in the business. It was a skill that had kept her safe many times because predators – even human ones – were able to read fear on the faces of their victims. Having an unreadable face had kept her from being killed more than once.

Joanne watched as Lexi refocused her attention, seemingly unmoved by the pearls. This lit a fire of rage inside Joanne that was not easily snuffed out. She forced a smile on her face as Beverly opened the gift from Dixie McCall – a large crystal vase. The woman had impeccable taste. "That will look beautiful with your bridal bouquet in it. You can place it on the table with your wedding cake tomorrow," Joanne announced, scarcely aware of what she was even saying.

By the time all the gifts had been opened, Joanne was seething. She barely heard Beverly thanking her for the monogrammed pillow cases she had given the happy couple. Bri noticed how distracted Joanne had become and how the older woman had stared as Lexi left the room to go upstairs to check on Antonio. As the other women were milling about, perusing through the gifts and filling their plates with more goodies, Bri took a seat beside Joanne.

"You seem distracted… Is everything okay?"

"I guess," she said with a soft smile. "It's just been a rough few weeks."

"I'm sorry, is there anything I can do to help?" Bri asked.

Joanne's smile genuinely warmed up. How was it that Bri and Lexi had come from such similar pasts, and yet, Bri was caring while Lexi was cold and calloused? "No, I'll be okay. It's just that…" Now was her chance and she couldn't stop the words from flowing from her mouth, no matter what Roy had asked of her. "Well, I had some jewelry stolen a few weeks ago and… It got returned today. I guess I should be happy but… the thief won't be punished and… it just seems a little unfair."

Bri took one look at the pearls Joanne was wearing. "I'm sorry, Jo. I know how life can be unfair at times. I'm glad you got them back." She looked around the room, realizing that Lexi was still upstairs. "Um, excuse me."

Joanne watched Bri head for the stairs. Perhaps she was going to talk to Lexi about what she had done. She took a cleansing breath knowing that if anyone could get through to Lexi, it was her best friend.

Joanne stood up, seeing Maria beginning to collect the crumpled paper scraps and adding them to the overflowing garbage can. "Let me help you with this."

"Thank you, Joanne. I'll just go get another bag and check on the pastries in the oven. It's the last batch I have to make for tomorrow," Maria said with a satisfied smile.

While Joanne was tidying up the area around the coffee table, she saw Antonio coming down the stairs. She recognized the distressed look on the youngster's face. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes when she walked over to him. "Hey, there. Have a good nap?"

He shook his head negatively and looked like he might cry. "Momma and Aunt Bri are fighting," he groaned.

"Uh-oh," she grimaced. "I'm sure it's just a little misunderstanding. I'll go check on them and we'll get Aunt Rebecca to fix you a plate of snacks, okay?" She saw the little boy's face light up. "Rebecca? We have a little man over here who woke up hungry from his nap."

Rebecca Stanley grinned at the sight of Antonio walking towards her. "C'mon, Ant. Let's see what we can find good to eat. I think the ladies left enough for you," she said, rubbing the little boy's head.

Joanne went up the stairs quickly, hesitating at the sounds coming from Lexi's bedroom. It was the unmistakable sounds of two women trying to argue in hushed voices.

"Why can't you admit it, Lex. Those pearls you said Mike gave you were really Joanne's, weren't they? That's why you never wore them."

Lexi stared at her former friend. "Why are you bein' such a bitch? This has nothing to do with you!"

"Because I'm your friend. And Joanne is my friend, too. How could you do it, Lexi?"

Joanne couldn't stop herself. She pushed through the bedroom door, unannounced. "I'd like to hear the answer to that question," she said. Looking back and forth between the two women.

Lexi looked up, stunned that Joanne had intruded into her bedroom. "Both of you, get out of my room."

"Oh, are you feeling like your privacy is being violated?" Joanne asked, sarcastically. "You know that I could have you arrested, right?"

"For what? I didn't do anything," she replied, feigning innocence. "Besides, you've got your precious pearls back."

Joanne felt the venom spewing and felt helpless to stop it. "Only a pathetic excuse for a human being would steal something from those who have tried to help her."

"I don't NEED your help, Joanne! I can make it just fine on my own!"

"Oh yea? Then why'd you take them?" Bri asked, crossing her arms.

"Go to hell," Lexi spat out.

"Lived there for five years, sister… same as you," Bri shot back. "The only difference is that I'm out for good. I ain't goin' back on the streets. Can you say that?"

Joanne's eyes widened. "Is that what you're planning on doing? How could you do that to your son?"

"What I do with my life is my business," she exclaimed. "Besides, what's the difference in me going back out on the streets and me being arrested for theft of property? Either way, I'm taken away from Antonio. So, if you want to have me arrested, then go ahead, Joanne." She glared at the other woman, knowing she was hitting her where it hurt the most. "Go ahead and explain to Antonio why his mother can't be with him. It'll be YOUR fault that he loses his mother again."

"No… It'll be his mother's fault… and it always seems to be the children who pay for the sins of their parents." Joanne stepped closer to the younger woman, ensuring that Lexi heard every word she was about to say. "But let me assure you of one thing. If you leave that child and go back to selling yourself, I WILL do everything in my power to make sure you can never have the chance to hurt him again."

"You think I'm afraid of jail?"

"You're afraid of something," Joanne shot back.

"I know what you're afraid of," Bri added, remembering Lexi's reaction in the DA's office when Bri had almost told the prosecutor about Ricardo Gomez's secret. "And if you go back out there, I'll make sure the DA knows the truth."

Lexi felt her nostrils flaring in anger at Bri for her comment, but she skillfully deflected Bri's comment by keeping her attention on Joanne.

"You can't prove a damn thing, Jo. So, you'll just look like a fool signing a warrant for my arrest for stealing something that YOU have in your possession." She scoffed in the face of the older woman. "Do you know how many times I've been arrested? All it takes is a few minutes in a back room and the charges will be dropped," she laughed. "I know how dirty the LA cops are and I know what they like," she smirked. "So, don't threaten me with arrest."

Joanne was seething. She narrowed her eyes. "There's still some time on the statute of limitations. It's not a threat, Lexi. It's a promise."

A soft knock on the door made all three women adjust their facial expression. No one else needed to know what had just occurred.

"Is everything alright?" Beverly asked, peering into the room through the partially opened door.

"Yes," Joanne announced, quickly recovering a sense of decorum. "I was just admiring the dresses you picked out for your bridesmaids," she added, turning to look at the floor-length gown still hanging on the back of Lexi's closet door. "I think Bri and Lexi will look beautiful standing with you tomorrow."

"No one will be as beautiful as the bride," Bri piped up, not wanting to alert her friend to the tension between Joanne and Lexi.

Beverly's blush colored her face. Joanne decided to use the pause in conversation as her cue to leave.

"I guess I need to be heading out. Roy has the kids and I'm sure he doesn't want to be late for Marco's bachelor party.

Joanne said her good-byes and promised to arrive early the following morning to assist with the final bit of decorating for the wedding. All the way home, she replayed the events of the bridal shower. Lexi had not only stolen from her, but she had also looked her directly in the eyes and lied about the theft. For what purpose had she stolen the jewelry? And what about Bri's comment? What was it that Lexi was so afraid of and why did the DA need to know?

By the time she pulled the car into their garage, she was more confused than ever, and she couldn't stop the feeling of dread that had settled into her heart. She couldn't help but recall Antonio's wish for a Daddy for Christmas… and now she was wondering if he was even going to have his mother around by then. Would he be better off without Lexi in his life? The young mother's words were haunting Joanne's thoughts… If she filed charges against Lexi, Antonio could lose his mother while she spent time in jail. Could she live with those consequences of her actions, even if Lexi was ultimately to blame? She pushed those dark thoughts aside and decided to focus only on the upcoming wedding. It was time to celebrate the joyous occasion. It wasn't until she walked into the house and caught the look on Roy's face that her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. In her worry about the confrontation with Lexi, she had completely forgotten to put her gold hoop earrings back on… and now Roy's face was turning red as he saw her wearing the earrings he had expressly forbidden her to wear to the shower.

E!

Johnny glanced to his right at the seething man sitting in the passenger's seat of the Rover. "Please tell me you aren't going to be this pissed off when we get to Cinders," Johnny stated, staring at Roy as he drove them towards the familiar bar.

"I just hope Lily will be a better wife to you than Joanne is to me," the older man groused.

"What?"

Roy shook his head, letting his partner know that he was not interested in talking further about the matter. "Nothing."

Johnny splayed his right hand over his chest, steering with his left. "This isn't nothin'," the junior medic piped up. "C'mon, I know you, and this is something big."

"She disobeyed a direct order, alright?" Roy spat out. He could feel the vein in his left temple pounding as it bulged.

"Are we talkin' about Jennifer or Jo?" Johnny knew very well that Joanne was the topic of the heated conversation but still felt he needed to make a point. "Joanne's a grown woman. She doesn't have to obey you, Pally."

"Do you know what she did?" Roy began, not giving his friend time to answer. "She deliberately wore her grandmother's pearl earrings to Beverly's shower this afternoon! I specifically told her not to because I didn't want her stirring up anything with Lexi, but she did it anyway!"

Johnny returned his attention to the road ahead with a low whistle. "Oh."

"Yea… Oh, is right. Now I've got to face Marco for what would have been a very pleasant evening but he's going to be pissed as hell at me for what Jo did!" The man leaned his head against the head rest. "I can't believe she did it," he mumbled.

"Well, not to state the obvious, but I believe it was Lexi who did it. Joanne has a right to wear what she wants, so if it offended Lexi, then that's because-"

"I know, Johnny. I get it, alright. Just… Just let me be mad for a little while, okay?" Roy said with an angry huff. He had not inquired about the events at the shower. He had been too angry at Joanne to have a rational conversation with her. Now he wished he had taken the time to find out what had happened. If he had done that, at least he wouldn't be caught off guard by whatever Marco was about to say to him.

E!

Inside Cinders, Hank and Mike sat at the large round table in the back room, counting out the money that had been collected from Marco's firefighter family.

"Three hundred and eighty-four dollars. Can you believe it, Cap?"

Hank smiled, reaching for his wallet. "I'll make it an even $400," he said, tossing the additional bills on the table.

As Mike put the bills into denominational order, smallest to largest, he didn't notice musing as he stared out the window. The older man was reminiscing about the night he had gotten drunk and been taken home by his men. He had blamed himself for losing a lineman under his command and had chosen to bury his grief in the bottom of a bottle.

Hank scrubbed his face with his hand as he recalled the events that followed that night. He nearly lost both of his families. No one would have blamed his wife if she had divorced him and moved away with the girls. And his crew had every right to have filed grievances against him for his on-duty behavior, especially Chet. Instead, they had rallied around him, forgiven him, and he had been restored completely – back with his crew, and especially with his wife and daughters. Therapy had helped him and his family recover those dark days and he had so much to be thankful for… Now he hoped that his senior lineman would have a marriage as strong as the one he now shared with his beautiful wife, Becca.

"Okay, fellas," Glenda announced, walking into the room carrying an enormous tray. "Here's peanuts, pretzels, sandwiches, and extra napkins. When everyone arrives, I'll bring out the nachos, icy mugs, and pitchers of draft beer. Can you think of anything else?"

"Sounds like you've got it all covered, Glenda. We really appreciate everything you're doing."

"And I've got the phone numbers for a couple of designated drivers who have offered their services, should the need arise," she said, patting the back pocket of her jeans. A few retired firemen had found a way to continue with the fire service by volunteering to be designated drivers any time a fellow firefighter needed it. She had already alerted a couple of them to be on call for the night's festivities. Ever since her firefighter husband had died while on duty, she had taken it upon herself to make sure that the men who patronized Cinders made it home safely.

"Thank you, Glenda," Mike added, nodding a greeting to 51's medics as they walked into the room.

"Party started already?" Johnny asked, hoping his jovial mood might lighten the atmosphere for his partner.

"Can't start without the guest of honor," Hank tossed out, watching as the door closed behind the exiting waitress.

"Chet's bringing him, right?"

Johnny was relieved by the normal sound of Roy's voice as he asked the question. It was Hank who answered.

"Yes… and that twit better not pull some stupid stunt," the senior man chuckled.

"You callin' Gage a stupid dunce, Cap?" Chet laughed, ushering the man of the hour into the room. He had only heard part of his captain's comment, but his misunderstanding had brought a round of laughter from the assembled men.

Johnny slapped Marco on the back, encouraging the groom towards the table that had been set up for them. "Ain't too late to back out, ya know," he suggested, picking up a plate and handing it to Marco.

Marco accepted the proffered plate and began piling it high with sandwiches and pretzels. "I'm not backing out… not now," he grinned under his mustache.

"Nachos and beer are here, fellas," Glenda announced, entering the room. She set down the tray and began unloading the items. She had set up the food on one table so the men would have room for their beer on the large round table. When she had finished, she looked around the room. "Congratulations, Marco. Your future wife is one lucky lady."

"I'm the lucky one," Marco said, his face glowing.

With his plate full, he took a seat at the table beside his captain while Hank began filling mugs with the ice-cold brew. Johnny filled two plates with food, passing one to Hank as he took his seat at the table beside his partner. He gave Roy a knowing look and was thankful when Roy offered a soft smile. Marco hadn't said anything about the events of the afternoon, so maybe the shower had not gone as badly as Roy had imagined.

"So, Roy, Cap… any words of wisdom for me?" Marco asked, shifting his eyes between the two married men sitting at the table.

"Two words," Hank said, holding up two fingers. "Yes… Dear."

"Three words," Roy added, mimicking Hank's gesture with his own hand. "Whatever you say."

There was a round of laughter and a few comments of good-natured ribbing as the men enjoyed themselves. When there was a lull in the conversation, Chet was the one who broke it.

"So, what's it like to be able to have sex whenever you want it?" the jovial lineman questioned the two married men.

Roy coughed into his closed fist while Hank leveled his junior lineman with a look reminiscent of the face he often gave Chet just before he ordered him to latrine duty for something the Phantom had done. "We'll let you know when we find out," the senior man deadpanned.

"Yea… both of you," Roy added, waving a hand between the two linemen. "Hell, all three of you," he added, waving his hand in Johnny's direction, "are about to have your sex lives come to a screeching halt," he chuckled.

"Are you trying to tell me that Mike here will be the only one gettin' any action once we all tie the knot?"

Both married men gave resounding affirmations while the quiet one of the crew felt a wave of heat coloring his face and ears. The engineer chose that moment to take a bite out of his sandwich so he wouldn't have to respond to the comment. As all the men began to discuss their significant others, he realized that he had never felt lonelier in his life. Tomorrow's wedding was only going to serve as another reminder of his life as a bachelor. He had always presumed that by this point in his life, he would be married or at least heading in that direction. He had also hoped to be a father. Was he doomed to spend the rest of his life in quiet solitude in a one-bedroom apartment while the rest of his friends moved on with wives and kids? With whom would he spend his off time once all the other men were married? As his mind drifted farther and farther into what seemed to be a bleak future, he had to ask himself… was it time for him to leave Lexi in his past and move on without her or Antonio? And if so… how?


End file.
